


The Gods Watched Over Us

by UrsaMajorStories



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Royalty, Denial of Feelings, Drama & Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Explorer!Tweek, Falling In Love, Fluff, Historical Fantasy, I promise, Incan!Craig, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Matchmaking, Slow Burn, South Park: Phone Destroyer AU, Then Maybe Some Bigger Angst Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2020-05-16 23:03:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19327909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrsaMajorStories/pseuds/UrsaMajorStories
Summary: Tweek was supposed to be researching artifacts. Abandoned Ruins. An ancient civilization in the Andes.He was an archeologist, damn it.A living, breathing society was never part of the deal.





	1. Chapter 1

Crisp air. Muddled scents of dirt and grass. Foggy mist twirling in and out of sparkling waves of sunlight. The new day emerged with a unique rejuvenating energy. Mountains stretched their ancient heads beyond the clouds, reaching up and over to observe the slow rise of the morning dawn. Golden sunbeams stretched their tired fingers over the rocky cliffs in attempt to shake off the deeply set night. They curled around every crevasse, every inch of land until it shined with radiance worthy of a king. Every morning, life was reborn by the sun. And very few people were able to witness this miracle.

Tweek Tweak was one of them.

He hung halfway out of the monochrome helicopter’s open door, excited out of his mind to be traveling again. He tightly clutched the small handrail to his right for support, but nevertheless he felt like he was flying. It had been so long since he had breathed fresh air, felt the winds that made him wild.

The pilot looked back over his shoulder, laughing as he saw how wind-whipped his blonde hair was, “Never took you for an adventurous type.”

“Neither did I. At least when I was younger,” Tweek hollered back over the deafening motors of the engine.

“What changed?”

Tweek sighed, “I don’t think we have enough time to get into it.”

“It’s your call. I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“Alright. But I’ll warn you, it’s kind of ridiculous.”

The pilot snorted, “Anyone who journeys into these mountains is ridiculous.”

Tweek smiled to himself, “That’s probably true. In fact, these mountains are what started it all.”

He began by describing how painfully shy and anxious he was as a child, full of fears and doubts about himself and reality. His mental health was constantly challenged by the everyday stresses of growing up. He was tormented by monsters that could roam outside the closet, ones that followed him, never straying too far from his side. His parents tried everything to get him to calm down: reassurance, empathy, honesty, and eventually a shit ton of coffee. In one last attempt, they decided to take a vacation.  Something that all the family could enjoy. And, for some reason, his parents took a liking to the idea of Peru.

But really, it was just their idea of the place. They thought nothing really frightening happened there. They knew nothing about the country. It just seemed like a nice place. They were wrong.

It was a _beautiful_ place.

But danger tends to follow beauty.

It was here, in the Andes Mountains, where Tweek had found his first artifact: a small shard of clay pottery. The discovery stirred a strange curiosity inside of him. He needed to know where it came from, who used it, what it was for. He forgot all about the demons that clawed at his shoulders. That was the best day of his life. But it proved to be too rigorous for his folks. The high altitude had left his father weak, and he fainted on the third day, tumbling halfway down a small hillside, somehow breaking his arm. They never left the United States again.

Yet, Tweek couldn’t forget about the forbidden realm of Peru. He started researching in the library, on the computer, anywhere he could find information about the mysterious mountains. Soon, he learned that there was a group of ancient people who had made their home there, who were known for their pottery and textiles. The Inca.

It was like he had found a long-lost family, one that could explain to him the ancient secrets of a forgotten people. He continued investigating, reading every book and article he could find on these mysterious people from the Americas. He craved more discoveries, quests for the lost people who had left their treasures behind. It wasn’t until much later that he discovered there was a name for that. _Archeology_. A word that captured his heart as soon as he heard it.

He now had some sort of a purpose attached to his life, and he went to college knowing full well what he was getting into. And now, here he stood, 25 years old with a master’s degree in Anthropology with an emphasis in Archeology. A decision his family will question for the rest of their lives. But finally, he was free from that stale university and able to research practically whatever he wanted. Well, within reason. But instead of going off to Egypt to study pyramids or Canada to dig up dinosaurs like his colleagues, he found himself back at the beginning, back in Peru, where he had longed to be for most of his brief life. He even brought that little piece of pottery with him, a tiny reminder of what brought him this far.

The pilot blinked, staring to snicker, “That doesn’t sound ridiculous at all.”

“No?”

“You just have the heart of an explorer,” he explained, demonstrating with a fist thump to the chest.

Tweek smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head self-consciously. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Chuckling, the pilot clarified, “Don’t worry about it, kid. I can tell ’cause I’ve got one, too. We’re like kindred spirits.”

Tweek smirked, “No kidding.”

Suddenly, the pilot pivoted the wheel, turning them sharply against the sharp inclines of the stony heights. Spinning gracefully between the giant landmasses, the helicopter rounded a corner into huge clearing at least ten miles wide, filled with towering trees and abundant grasslands. The hidden valley was encircled by jagged rock sentinels on all sides. In the center, it housed a massive temple which possessed a beauty that rivaled the glorious mountains that protected it. A maze of other smaller structures enclosed the towering building, surrounding it in an organized pattern that appeared to zig-zag endlessly upon itself. Deep reds, turquoise blues, and jade-like greens splashed the architecture with vibrant elegance. This was an Incan city. There was no doubt in Tweek’s mind. He gapped at its large expanse, unsure if it truly existed.

The pilot hummed a small confirmation to himself, “Is that what you’re studying today?”

“Sure is,” Tweek whispered, barely breathing.

As they swooped closer to the city, the pilot squinted at the ruins and remarked, “It’s strange. I’ve never brought anyone this far out. You sure this is the right place?”

“Absolutely,” Tweek nodded, laughing with glee. Even if it wasn’t the right place, he couldn’t give less of a shit. It was here, right in front of his eyes. He could _see_ it. That was more than enough for him.

“Got your parachute?”’

Tweek sucked in a surprised gulp of air, “Wh-What?”

“Your pa-ra-chute?” The pilot repeated louder and slower, accenting every syllable like he was talking to a small child.

A squeaking noise made its way out of Tweek’s larynx, “I don’t remember _that_ in the basic rundown you gave me.”

The pilot huffed, “Everyone seems to zone out at that part. No idea why.”

Tweek shuffled to the pilot’s side, his voice cracking with rising panic, “You mean I have to jump out?”

The pilot rolled his eyes and pointed towards the overcrowded landscape, “Do you see a safe place for me to land?”

“I guess not…”

“You’ll be fine. There’s really nothing to parachuting. Just grab one of the packs back there and I’ll walk you through it,” The pilot waved his hand dismissively towards the back of the copter, where a few stray parachutes haphazardly lay. Tweek eyed them suspiciously, then hesitantly grabbed the nearest one. Then, he remembered he had other gear with him that he couldn’t leave behind, “Can I take my backpack, too?”

“Course! Just slip it on and put the parachute over. Might be a snug fit, but at least everything will be secure.”

Tweek exhaled the anxious breath he had been holding onto, shakily undoing various straps and buckles on the equipment. He had never worked with a parachute before. _Wasn’t there some basic training he had to do? Something more extensive than this?_ Tweek shoved his nerves down his throat with a nervous swallow and hastily strapped himself and his backpack into the flying gear. Sitting in the copilot’s seat, Tweek gestured towards himself and inquired, “Ok, everything look alright?”

The aviator looked him up and down, then said, “The glasses will have to come off.”

“Really?”

“You’re not _that_ blind, are you?”

“No, they’re just for distance.”

“It’s not ideal, but it’ll have to do if you want to keep them intact.”

Tweek was internally screaming. He was not prepared, physically or mentally for something as crazy as this. He thought he’d have a nice, relaxing day out on the field, but no. He had to listen to a half-assed speech on parachute safety and watch his life flash before his eyes as he fell back into Earth’s atmosphere.

The pilot continued once Tweek plunged his eyewear into his pack, “Now, once you jump, wait until you’re about one-fourth of the way down, then just pull that yellow ripcord on the strap on your left to deploy the chute. Then it’s smooth sailing from there, unless you get stuck in a tree.”

“Then what?”

“You’ll have to find a way down.”

“Thanks for that golden nugget of wisdom,” Tweek grumbled with sarcasm.

“Ha, I’m just kidding. There should be a pocket knife in there somewhere,” The pilot shrugged.

Tweek chirped, “Got it. Anything else?”

“Yeah. Be careful.”

“Think I’ve never been told that?” Tweek chuckled.

The pilot shook his head, placing his hand on the young man’s shoulder, “No, but I don’t think you truly understand where I’m coming from. Quite a few people haven’t returned from these cliffs. I like you, kid, and I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t. Just watch yourself.”

Touched by this unexpected concern, Tweek grinned, “Thank you. I will.”

He stood and shuffled back to the opened side door. His body trembling more than he ever thought it could. For a moment, he thought he was on the verge of cardiac arrest. The pilot sensed his reluctance and offered a hearty, “Good luck!”

Tweek nodded, faking the confidence he desperately needed. He felt his teeth grind against each other as he inched ever closer to the edge of the vehicle. With one final, deep breath, he jumped, his limbs flailing a lunatic, “AHHHHH!”

Hysterically, he felt around for the ripcord. The rubber cable bobbed under his hand and he let out a tiny breath of relief. He allowed himself to fall until his nerves couldn’t take it anymore, then yanked on the cord as hard as humanly possible. His eyes squeezed shut, bracing himself for the harsh impact of skeleton on the forest trees below. But instead, he was safely jerked a few feet back into the sky. He peeked out from under his trembling eyelashes to see an orange parachute elegantly spread above him, catching heaps of air to ease his decent.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Tweek wheezed. Long minutes passed as he sank gradually to the ground. It was actually kind of peaceful. Being so far up made the world seem so vast, so much bigger than he was. _This must be what birds feel when they fly. They’re a part of something bigger._

**Zip** _._

His thoughts were torn apart as something jagged grazed his arm, drawing blood. He scanned the cut with startled eyes.

_Was that an arrow?_

**Zip**. **Zip** _._

More cuts appeared on his legs.

_Those are arrows._

**Zip** _._

The sound of shredded fabric filled his ears. His head snapped up.

_Those are arrows that just ripped my parachute in half._

Immediately, Tweek’s body started to plummet towards the rocky, tree-speckled valley. He couldn’t get enough air into his lungs to scream. There was no time. He clutched at the useless string and nylon fabric that enveloped him as he fell, desperately looking for something else that could catch his fall. The last thing he felt was his chest hitting what must have been a thick tree branch, then falling a few more feet to where his head connected with rain-thickened mud. He saw static spots burst in front of his vision, sparkling until darkness swallowed his senses.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of brittle leaves cracking echoed through the bitter morning air. A twig snapped and Tweek was suddenly aware of the forest floor beneath him. He could feel the mud soak into his clothes, a dull throbbing in his temples, and every time his lungs expanded, a searing pain ripped through his skin. Tweek forced himself to keep his breathing steady, before his anxiety got the better of him. He ignored the sun shining bright behind his closed eyelids. He couldn’t bring himself to open them. If his body looked as bad as he felt, he was sure to freak out.

He began to use his other senses to gather information, switching from one to the other as he searched for the courage to get up. The smell of the damp foliage wafted into his nostrils, and the scent calmed him for a moment. It reminded him of the guided meditation videos he used to listen to, the little mantras that told you to be one with nature, to pull nature into your body as you inhaled. Tweek laughed inwardly. The mind brings up the weirdest things when it thinks you’re dying.

Next, he tried to see what he could feel by gently scratching at the ground with his fingertips. Crumbles of earth gathered under his nails, which was an oddly grounding feeling. He was relieved he could feel it. At least he wasn’t paralyzed.

He opened his mouth with his next breath. Muggy, fevered air filled his mouth, tasting like the pearled sweat of the trees. Tweek was almost smiling now. This was the first time in months he felt like the therapy techniques he learned weren’t a waste.

Tweek only ran into a problem when he shifted his focus to what he could hear.

He began to hear three distinct voices murmuring around him, speaking a language that was definitely not English. Some of the words sounded familiar to Tweek, though. The syllables were reminiscent of Spanish and something else rather foreign. While he continued to listen, he found that he could translate the words, and then full sentences. Suddenly, it dawned on him. _They’re speaking Quechua_.

Something sharp, possibly wooden, smacked his body as a low voice asked, “ _Is he dead?_ ”

Tweek wheezed. The blow landed right against his tender ribcage.

Another voice squawked as its owner witnessed his reaction, “ _No, there’s breath in his body. Can’t you see it_?”

“ _Quit being a know-it-all, asshole,_ ” Came another snide reply.

“ _Whatever he is, he’s bleeding,_ ” The first voice rumbled, “ _Let’s bring him to the temple. The chief will know how to handle this._ ”

The dull throb in Tweek’s temples made it hard to concentrate. _Were they talking about him?_

Before Tweek could contemplate their interactions further, his arms were abruptly yanked forward and tied together by the wrist with something coarse. The bristles felt like dry grass, which made Tweek’s skin start to itch. Probably some sort of woven rope. When the same sensation started around his ankles, that’s when the explorer forced his eyes open.

Three fuzzy shadows were backlit by bright sky, faces and features completely obscured. One whispered excitedly, “ _Told you!_ ”

Tweek blinked several times, trying desperately to get his eyes to calm down. The figures in front of him wobbled, divided into nine figures, then back to three. He began to wonder if he had a concussion.

The figure that was a bit taller than the other two, exhaled a heavy sigh, “ _It is no matter_. _Just make sure those knots are secure_.”

Tweek nearly choked. So they _were_ tying him up. He fought with his brain, attempting to form words in their language. The vocabulary was jumbled, however, and the sentences dragged sluggishly through his mind. What would he even say? I’m friendly? Please don’t hurt me? He could imagine what little sympathy he would receive with those pleas.

Next option: try and escape. Now.

He pushed against his restraints, squirming in desperation. The figures watched him with curiosity, confident he would not succeed in his attempts. He brought his wrists to his face, checking to see how they had been tied. That was when he saw the blood. The blood that distracted him from everything else.

The dark crimson liquid painted his fingers in delicate spirals, dripping onto his face and neck as he held them out in front of him. He stared for what seemed like hours, frozen. He had never seen so much blood.

Only after the initial shock did he dare to look down at himself.

His chest was covered in ragged, zig-zagging claw marks. Or at least they appeared to be claw marks. Tweek suddenly remembered the tree he hit, figuring the bark was sharp enough to slice into his skin. The injury and how it happened were not the disturbing things to Tweek, though.

It was the blood.

The blood bubbled from his wounds, dark and menacing, clots of deep cherry pulp urgently trying to clog the broken veins and arteries. Tweek couldn’t even scream. He just laid there and stared. Feeling more and more hot bile rise into his closing throat.

He didn’t hear the hissing command of the figure above him, “ _Pick him up_.”

Without much resistance, Tweek allowed himself to be heaved over what could have only been someone’s shoulder. The wind was knocked out of Tweek’s lungs as his chest collided with his capture’s back. And he dangled there heaving, until his body was kind enough to let him back into the darkness.

* * *

 

He woke with a jolt as freezing water was thrown into his face. Tweek sputtered and looked into the eyes of his assailant. A dark-skinned man with even darker eyes grimaced back. He held a clay pot against his hip, looking thoroughly unimpressed. The two men beside him, one with curly red hair, the other with jet black, stood scrutinizing Tweek with their gaze.

From what he could tell, Tweek saw that he was laying in some sort of anti-chamber, or a holding room of sorts. Dark grey bricks were neatly shoved into each wall, creating tightly knit stacking patterns. Intricate floor and ceiling moldings glimmered, comprised of geometric shapes colored in bright blue and red pigments. A skylight just above them all let sun beams trickle in, illuminating the small room. The large entryway loomed before the four men. It was draped in a silk-like fabric that was dyed a deep, threatening red. Like blood.

Tweek could feel death looming behind that curtain.

The tall man in front of him gave a nod to the others, who promptly cut lose the ties at Tweek’s ankles. The blonde was then heaved up onto his feet. His head pounded, and he stumbled. The men at his sides held him in place, gripping his upper arms until he steadied himself. Being as dizzy as he was, Tweek could finally focus his eyes well enough to take a closer look at these people.

They were dressed in textile tunics in several varieties of colors. He caught glimpses of purples, blues, reds, and greens. But the colors were not the important part. The metal shoulder plates and layer of thin metal covering their torsos were what made Tweek’s heart drop. All three of them where dressed like warriors. High-class, _Incan_ warriors.

Tweek opened his mouth to speak, but the man in front of him simply shook his head. It was as if he suspected there was a language barrier. Tweek grit his teeth. He could understand them for the most part. They could work on some understanding, right? Then he remembered they probably didn’t speak English, so that idea was less likely than he had hoped. Sighing his defeat, Tweek nodded and closed his mouth.

The tall, intense man squinted skeptically at him before proceeding to pull back the entryway’s curtain. The men at Tweek’s sides shoved him forward, and the explorer was immersed in an even brighter light. It was his instinct to close his eyes against the glare.

Once they opened, he knew he was in a different world entirely.

An expansive room spread out in front of him, almost as big as his small childhood home. The bricks were innumerous here, probably thousands used in this space alone. Vines abloom with colorful flowers he couldn’t quite recognize weaved their way up the walls, covering elaborate paintings of scarlet and indigo. The only thing that was more visually spectacular in the room than the walls was the solitary throne sitting at the far end. Embellished with brilliant turquoise and polished glass beads, its golden façade flashed like the sun’s embers. _Which is probably the point_ , Tweek thought as the sight jogged his memory. There was the face of a god carved into the back, rectangles emanating from the top of his head, curving like a celestial crown. The iconography was unmistakable.   _Inti. The Sun God_ , Tweek recited in his head.

He was looking at the throne of a Sapa Inca. Whoever the leader of this civilization was, he would have sat there.

But this city should have been abandoned. Not full of living, breathing… _people_.

He should have been examining this throne by himself, with no other soul in sight. Instead, he heard a wild mummering spread across the room as he was led closer to the practically glowing artifact. But was it really an artifact if it was still currently in use?

Tweek shook his head. He was asking himself stupid questions because he was panicking. He wasn’t even sure if he remembered how to speak, let alone perform field work.

Looking around the smallest bit, he figured he was surrounded by what could only be the ruler’s court. Some looked angry; others were sad, even horrified. The details of their silhouettes were still somewhat unclear to Tweek, but he could count nine people in total, including the ones that were now shoving him to the ground.

His knees smashed into the unforgiving floor, and he whined softly to himself as he knelt in front of the empty throne. He caught a glimpse of the blood still dribbling from his chest as his head was forced down. A vibrating silence took over the room.

Footsteps touched down to the cold bricks from the back of the room. Tweek could hear them coming closer, never faltering. A new strange voice accompanied the footfall, sounding irritated, “ _What is the meaning of this?_ ”

Tweek couldn’t tell what made the voice so different from the others. It was deeper, more spoken through the nose, probably male. He spoke Quechua with such ease and grace, like he was more familiar with the language than the others. It sounded like soft, drumming music gently weaving its way through his ears.

The men behind Tweek answered the question quickly, “ _We have captured an intruder who fell from the sky._ ”

Something sharp and cold to the touch hooked itself under Tweek’s chin, beckoning him to look upwards. Tweek thought it unwise to resist the tug. When his eyes finally lifted, he thought he might faint again.

Standing before him was a man, taller than any he had ever seen. His golden skin seemed to glisten under the light of the afternoon, putting the throne behind him to shame. Rich blue silks enfolded his body, encrusted in fine jewels and metallic embroidery. Golden armbands and anklets accented his godly stature, along with a majestic headpiece adorned with white, black-tipped feathers. Tweek felt as if he were looking at a living god. This was surely their leader.

He gripped a feathered spear in his right hand, and Tweek figured it was the arrowhead of this weapon that rested snuggly underneath his chin. He swallowed hard, feeling the point jab slightly into his throat. The only thing more intimidating was the muscles underneath the skin of the leader’s arm, where veins coiled and bugled, pulsing with barely contained strength.         

Fierce jade eyes then locked with Tweek’s. The archeologist let out a shaky breath.

There was a moment of silence between the two. Then the staff was slowly lowered.

The chief looked at him with a new kind of gaze. Not one of hatred or ferocity. No, this was a look that Tweek knew well. Curiosity lined the Chief’s bright green irises as he eyed Tweek’s injuries, “ _What did you do to him?_

The voice from the tall, dark guard rang out from behind Tweek ,“ _Shot down his wings. He fell to the earth straight away._ ”

“They weren’t wings. It’s called a parachute,” Tweek rolled his eyes, annoyed that they thought he couldn’t comprehend what they were saying. When all the court turned to look at him in awe, he added, “I may not speak Quechua, but I understand it just fine.”

The chief was suddenly kneeling in front of tweak, eyes ablaze, “You know our language?”

“I…I st-studied it,” Tweek cringed as his voice started to crack. He hadn’t heard himself do that for years. But the god-like man was mere inches from his face. Of course he couldn’t keep his composure. Those jeweled eyes seemed finely crafted, and they pierced deep, carving out the shape of Tweek’s soul from the inside. They almost made Tweek forget that the chief had just spoken English. “Wait. How do you know mine?”

The question went unaddressed. The chief continued to interrogate him instead, “What do you mean ‘studied’ it?”

“I…ugh…I specialize in ancient Incan civilizations. Which means I need to know a decent amount of the language of the area,” Tweek’s breath was quivering now. The incessant stinging in his chest was becoming unbearable. He hung his head for a moment, gritting his teeth as he rode out another nauseating wave of pain. The chief seemed to give him that moment to himself.

The next question he issued was quiet. Almost whispered. “What is your name?”

With a bolstering breath, the blonde lifted his head once more, “Tweek…My name is Tweek…”

The chief nodded. Tweek would almost consider it an encouraging motion, but he couldn’t tell for sure. His facial expressions barely changed. Again, another soft question, “And what brings you here, Tweek?”

“I…I’m an archeologist” The chief wrinkled his brow, showing Tweek he had no idea what that was. The shaking blonde thought he was one step closer to death as he explained, “Sh-Shit. That just means I study ancient buildings and artifacts. I…I was…going to start my research in this place…I just…didn’t know there were people here.”

The decorated Incan man was stone still, listening. Eyes unmoving. Tweek knew the chief was inspecting him, just as he himself would have inspected the walls of their ancient world. The tables had turned in such a peculiar way. And Tweek couldn’t say he wasn’t enjoying it. He was finally immersed in a culture that fascinated him. And the people in it seemed to be just as fascinated by him as well. If he was sacrificed now, he would probably die the happiest he had ever been.

Yet the chief did something that startled Tweek out of this resolve. He stood before his court and looked directly at the warrior behind Tweek’s back, his voice lashing out like thunder, “This man is not dangerous.”

The warrior’s reply was barely intimidated, “I can see that now, but—”

“But what?”

This time, it was the redheaded warrior that spoke in response, “Well, we didn’t know if he was bringing more of them. We thought we had a possible army on our hands.”

“I’m here alone,” Tweek groaned. He knew it wasn’t obvious to them, but the fact that they thought _he_ was bringing an army made him want to bash his head against the floor. If they had just waited a second, they could’ve easily seen that he wasn’t a warlord. Tweek paused his spiraling thoughts, realizing his breaths were getting desperate and panicky, _The past is in the past. Just deal with the consequences now._

The redheaded warrior suddenly swung a pack from off his shoulders and slapped it on the ground. It was Tweek’s backpack. Tweek whined as he witnessed his equipment being handled in such a rough manner. “We also found this pocketknife on him, sir.”

“Oh, of course! Because one can take down a whole city with a _pocketknife_.” The chief practically spit these words at the redhead. He abandoned his spear on the throne and strode over to him, his tongue reverting to Quechua as he began to bicker with the now standoffish warrior.

Tweek’s vision was starting to blur while they argued, and he swayed off balance. He couldn’t muster the strength to kneel anymore. His body gave out from under him, collapsing onto the floor with a loud _thump._ A young girl with flaming red hair gasped as she saw this, calling out in a desperate frenzy, “Big brother!”

Tweek looked at her curiously. She was very close to the throne, biting her nails in alarm. Two other women stood behind her, looking just as concerned. Tweek blinked. _Who was she talking to?_

Soon, he felt firm, muscular arms wrap around him, pulling him into a warmth that soothed his trembling body. He looked up into the face of the chief, still neutral, unfazed. In a sort of delirium, Tweek whispered to him as he realized, “You have a sister…”

“Yes.”

“Does that mean…you’re married to her?”

The redheaded princess snorted from the back of the room, prompting Tweek to swivel his head towards her to see why. The corner of the chief’s lips quirked upwards as he turned the blonde’s face back towards him. “No. You may know the traditions of the past, but quite a few of them have not survived the test of time.”

“Oh…”

The Incan leader held Tweek’s cheek in his hand, seeming to search his face for something specific. The archeologist should have been nervous, frightened even, but he was more confused than anything. But, as confused as he was, he felt secure under the gaze of those strangely beautiful eyes. That strangely beautiful face. _The strangely beautiful man_.

That phrase reverberated in Tweek’s foggy mind but was swiftly pushed back by a sharp pain that frayed his shuddering chest, making him hiss through gritted teeth. He felt himself being lowered onto the chilled, unforgiving floor.  Tears welled in his eyes, blurring the image of the chief above him, “Why are you...? Ack!”

 Tweek couldn’t stop the pitiful yelp that escaped his lips. The chief seemed to wince as he heard it. An angry bark was directed towards red-headed warrior. “Give me the knife.”

“But—”

“Give me the _fucking knife,_ Kyle!”

The ginger warrior, apparently named Kyle, reluctantly handed the man the small blade. It glinted off the streams of light that cascaded through the temple as it was exchanged between the men. The ropes binding Tweek’s wrists were swiftly sawed away. His limbs instantly fell to his sides, feeble and useless. He wished he could lift them, pull himself up off the floor. He didn’t want to die weak and afraid. Then, the knife was brought to his chest and Tweek flinched. Terrified thoughts flashed through his mind, _This is how I die. Oh my god. I’m going to die._ Then he tried to rationalize. He _was_ an intruder. This was only fair. He could still die happy like he thought he would, even though he was scared.

The chief saw him tense and stopped for a moment, “I will not hurt you.”

Then the knife skillfully cut through the remaining pieces of Tweek’s shirt, buttons popping free from their thread bound places. Fabric was ripped from him until his torso was bare. Tweek squirmed, willing his arms to cover himself, crossing them over his pale, bruised, and bloodied skin. The chief grabbed his hands and quickly brought them back to his sides. He growled, “Be still.”

Tweek bit his lip as he stared up into the chief’s stern face. He couldn’t find it in himself to disobey those damn eyes. He let himself relax under the chief’s grip. As soon as he did, the chief’s expression softened slightly. He released Tweek’s wrists, raising his hands up to the sky. His voice reverberated across the building as he chanted words so archaic, even Tweek couldn’t understand them.

Green irises swirled with glowing blue light, and Tweek gasped. It became even harder not to stare at the man before him. The tips of the chief’s fingers began to glow with the same hue, spreading across his palm until his whole hand glowed with unearthly magic. The other did the same, until both were pulsing with some sort of mystical energy. Gradually, the chief reached for the lacerations on the archeologist’s chest. Tweek whimpered, hoping he wasn’t going to touch it. It was excruciating enough; he couldn’t imagine how much pain he’d be in if it was touched. The chief saw his fear and offered his hand to him.

Tweek hesitantly placed his hand in his and felt a strangle tingle shoot down his arm. His breath began to sync with the chief’s. The chief nodded approvingly, bringing other his hand down to connect with Tweek’s wounds.

The deafening howl that tore through Tweek’s throat echoed stridently throughout the chamber. The hand around his tightened as he screamed all the air out of his lungs. His skin burned with blindingly hot spasms of electricity, and even though it only lasted a few seconds, the ordeal left him dazed and urgently gasping for air. The hand on his chest did not ease off his tortured, quivering body, however. Softly, it moved across his heaving ribcage in a calming manner. His breathing rapidly evened out again under the chief’s gentle touch, and he gradually began to realize the pains in his chest were gone. He opened his eyes, unsure of when he had closed them. The chief quickly lifted his hand from the blonde’s chest, but his firm hold on his hand did not waver. Tweek anxiously scanned his torso. No blood, no lacerations, not even a scar remained. The wound was healed.

“Why…did you do that…?” Tweek could feel himself choking on his words. He was overwhelmed, disoriented, and shaking. Near tears. In front of a _fucking Incan chief_.

The chief’s glittering blue eyes widened a fraction and he finally let go of Tweek’s hand. For a brief second, he looked bewildered. Tweek attempted to ask again, but before the words could form, he felt a slight pressure on his forehead. The chief’s hand laid there with such tenderness that Tweek’s question died on his tongue. Gentle tendrils of cooling mist seemed to glide through the blonde’s overstimulated mind, slowly removing his frantic thoughts. A low, haunting voice whispered into his ear, “Rest.”

Tweek’s vision blurred, and his eyelids fluttered heavily. The word floated to the back of his mind, softly pushed there by sweet breath. _He wants me to…rest?_ The fog seeping into the crevasses of his brain made it hard to think, and dread bubbled in his veins like vicious, molten lava. He’d be at the mercy of these people if he gave in. They could do whatever they wanted with him, without his protest. They could abandon him. They could hurt him. They could kill him. If he closed his eyes now, he may never open them again.

Yet, there was something in the chief’s gaze that made him reconsider this. He looked sincere enough, even though his expression had barely changed. There was an undeniable spark of _something_ in his eyes. _Something_ deep and earnest that made Tweek’s stomach churn. His heart made a terrible thud against his chest. He wanted to trust him.

Again, the chief leaned down and whispered something into his ear. The words were a jumbled mess to Tweek, but he was soothed by them regardless. They were like an ancient lullaby, and he was already drifting away, too tired to try to make sense of things. He took one last look of the chief’s steadfast expression, and finally let his eyes slip closed, plummeting into a deep, peaceful sleep.

The chief sighed, pausing momentarily as he pulled his hand back. He watched the outsider’s face with caution before he began to run his hands over the cuts on his arms and face. The room was deathly quiet, everyone frozen like sculptures of ice as they watched him heal the strange man. The chief’s mild demeanor had stunned them into a rare instance of silence.

Once all the visible wounds on man’s body were healed, the chief’s eyes returned to green, the magic retreating to wherever it came from. He brought the blonde into his arms once more, cradling his limp form with unusual care. Then, he broke the permeating stillness, tersely giving orders to a boyish looking man, “Butters, prepare a room.”

“Oh boy! Alright!” The small man clasped his hands together and ran off with giddy enthusiasm.

The chief then turned to another man with an ornate mask covering his face, passing the comatose man in his arms on to him carefully, “Kenny, take him there and watch him. Heal any other injuries you find. He may sleep until the next sunrise.”

The figure did not say anything, just gave a simple nod of the head as he followed the other man.

The chief pivoted again and grimaced. What was left of the explorer’s shirt lay disheveled on the floor, torn and bloodied. He scooped it up and held it out to one of the girls by his sister’s side, “Wendy, are you able to mend this?”

She looked at it for a minute, scrunching up her face in doubt before she eventually took it, “I can sure try.”

The chief nodded, appreciating her willingness to attempt it. The garment was torn into mere fabric scraps. It could take days to fix. Wendy scampered out of the room, trying to conceal her concern.

Once she was gone, the chief flopped back onto his throne without ceremony and was quickly bombarded by the rest of his court.

The brunette warrior was the first to speak, “What was that about?”

“Yeah, what the actual _fuck_ dude,” The redheaded Kyle growled, looking more hurt now than he had let on before. The chief sighed. He didn’t mean to be so gruff with him.

More questions where hurled at the throne’s occupant from all directions. Different concerns were being voiced all at once, overlapping each other in a frenzied windstorm of sound.

“Why did you do that?”

“He’s a stranger! Why should he stay here?”

“Can’t you see this is dangerous?”

The chief tiredly raised his hand, quieting the overwhelming shouts of disapproval. In a rather sarcastic, almost bitter tone, he answered their questions with yet another, “You don’t recognize a _guest_ when you see one?”

The precious seconds of silence this statement granted were short lived. Outraged breath filled the lungs of the entire court, and they screamed back at him, “A guest!?”

They were the only words they seemed to agree on.

Then the room dissolved again into unique predictions of doom. One said it was hazardous. Another said that it was bizarre. More predicted the end of their livelihood.

One fairly chubby man draped in blazing red robes stomped his feet in exaggerated anger. He looked like a tiny volcano about to erupt as he bellowed his opinion. “This could end our world as we know it!”

The chief examined a speck of lint on his shoulder and brushed it away, thoroughly unimpressed, “One man? I highly doubt that.”

“One man makes all the difference to the gods,” The eccentric man snarled, looking like an overfed gorilla in his simmering rage. He stomped up to the throne, getting outrageously close to his superior. He opened his gargantuan mouth to speak again and was swiftly cut off by the stoic chief.

“If you’re about to say what I think you’re going to, I advise you to shut your mouth.” The chief’s sharp glare could cut the air like the spear at his side.

The stout opposer sniffed the air, huffing with arrogance as he decided to be disobedient. With eyes of boiling fervor, he declared, “He’d make a much better sacrifice than a guest!”

Groaning, the chief massaged the bridge of his nose. He had explained this before. “You know how my family and I feel about sacrifice, Eric.”

“But the gods are not appeased on crops alone. Even your idiotic self should understand—”

“The gods have not forsaken us yet.”

Another passionate howl came out of the short, jiggling man, “They will if you keep giving them a metaphorical ‘fuck you’! A perfect sacrifice literally falls _out of the sky_ , and you choose to waste resources keeping him _alive_.”

The chief’s patience was wearing thin, and the strain to keep calm could be heard in his voice, “I believe the gods work in many ways. Blood is not the only thing they prize.”

“But it sure as hell doesn’t hurt to offer it. If we offer this random dude, then it’s not even a great loss to us.” The aggressive stance the man had taken was suddenly offset by a feigned shrug of his shoulders. He was trying to make it seem like it was no big deal. It was the life of someone they didn’t know, so it didn’t matter much.

The chief sensed this connotation behind his words and was unreasonably infuriated by it. The rage of this tiny man, the highest priest in his court no less, had enough heat to make the whole room swelter. It was a rage the chief could barely understand, and it was all towards this innocent, defenseless man. He was abruptly on his feet, lunging towards the man he called Eric, “Suggest that one more time. _I dare you_.”

The dark-skinned warrior protested now, offering a voice of reason to try and ease the tension. “But, taking on someone, at this time of year? Just a month before your ceremony—”

“Have you all lost your sense of compassion?” The princess suddenly interjected. She gave her brother a knowing smile, “He wants to find another way.”

The chief turned on his heel and looked at the smug grin on his sister’s face. He scowled, shaking his head. This was already too much for him.

He dragged himself back to the throne, looking like he had aged twenty years in just a few minutes. Defeated, tired, and strangely on edge, he closed his eyes and grunted, “You’re all dismissed.”

Grumbles of confusion and irritation slowly wafted away from him. The sound of footfall echoed farther and father. He refused to open his eyes again until the room was completely silent. He didn’t want to meet anyone else’s befuddled stare.

There was an unshakable doubt in his mind now. Was this the wrong thing to do? What if they were all right?

But then he saw that helpless figure in his mind, bleeding and trembling. He remembered the tears in the outsider’s darkened blue eyes, the painful scream as his hand touched his body.  The chief shivered and quickly opened his eyes.

Apparently, he was not as alone as he expected to be. His sister was standing before him, and he raised his eyebrows at her. She still wore that shining smile as she watched him.

The chief growled, “What, Tricia?”

She turned and began to saunter away, giggling to herself, “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Then, the room was truly empty. There were no more people to distract the chief from himself. No one to stop the broken, pleading voice of the outsider from echoing inside his mind, asking him repeatedly. _Why did you do that? Why…did you do that…_

The chief sighed, bowing his head into his hands. He didn’t know.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

_The moon shown bright over the lush mountains. The night air was crisp, as if you could feel each drop of moisture in it, while its icy fingers caressed your skin. There were no buildings, no civilization in sight. Just endless indigo sky. Endless arid earth._

_Twe_ _ek stood_ _mesmerized by the beauty_ _, staring up at the moon and her many stars. They glistened, twinkling with the pulses of the universe. They wrapped around the earth like sacred lovers, sentinels that adored every hill and valley below. They watched and listened, bringing unknown understanding to any creature under them. Tweek knew he never stood alone when he was under a night sky._

_The moon began to shift, folding onto itself like a piece of white paper. It began to form the shape of a woman with diamonds for eyes. The moon was now a mere ball, gently cradled in her hands. She looked below to Tweek, and spoke tenderly in Quechua, “I have a plan for you.”_

The blonde woke with a start, huffing rapidly as he felt himself lurch into an upright position. He was sweating and shaking, but other than that he felt alright. He looked around a bit, realizing he wasn’t in the wilderness at all. He was in a small, cozy room. He felt a taut fabric beneath him, and as he shifted his weight, he could tell he was on some sort of woven cot. A soft woolen blanket was tucked around his legs and some of his torso. His skin could feel its warm, pleasant comfort. Nothing else. Tweek’s eyes widened. _Was he naked?_

A voice to his immediate right suddenly whooped cheerily, “Ah! He lives!”

“ACK!” It was enough to be startled from a dream. Now he had to deal with people. Given his rather compromised position, Tweek lifted the blanket as far as it could go over his body. All the way up to his neck. He snapped his head in the direction of the voice and found a mask staring directly back. Tweek yelped again, shaking under the covers.

The muffled voice behind the mask reassured him, “Don’t stress man. I’m not gonna harm you.”

Hands gripped each side of the tribal mask and lifted it from the head that wore it. Revealed underneath was a young man with reddish-blonde hair and many freckles peppering his cheeks. He grinned wide at Tweek, and it appeared that he had a small gap between his two front-teeth.

Tweek forced his hands to release their harsh grip on the blanket, slowly lowering it onto his lap while he fought for words to respond, “Oh…oh…I’m sorry…”

“Nononono, I should be the sorry one. I know the mask can be intimidating,” The man waved his hands in a relaxed manner and walked over to a small table by the wall by Tweek’s right. Tweek took another moment to take in his new surroundings. His cot was pressed against the corner of the room, and directly by it was an entryway with no curtains. Tweek leaned over and peered outside. It seemed to be regular looking hallway.

He then turned to the table just beside the entryway and the things on it that the man was fiddling with. Jars filled with green paste and leaves were clinked together. The man hummed as he searched for something specific. _This man must be a healer of some kind_ , Tweek assumed.

The man made a sound of recognition as he picked up a little vile stuffed with pink flower petals. Turning to Tweek, he smiled again, “How are you feeling?”

“I-I don’t know…” Tweek hated his trembling stutter. Just listening to how pathetic his voice was made him feel weaker. He couldn’t stop his tremors. He felt like he was a kid again, frightened of the world. Vulnerable. 

The man was quick to comfort him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Awwww don’t shake. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you.”

Tweek flinched away from his touch, and the man nodded with understanding. He didn’t move to touch him again. He only kneeled down beside the cot as he continued his cheerful banter, “Let me introduce myself. My name is Kenny. I’m the healer around here. But you could probably already tell that. You said your name was Tweek, right?”

The explorer nodded his head cautiously. Something didn’t sound right. Kenny wasn’t a name he expected to hear in a place like this.

Kenny tilted his head, a concerned wrinkle in his brow, “Are you in pain?”

“Ngh…No…I don’t think so…”

“Here. Let’s have you stand.” The medicine man held out his hands to him, and Tweek naturally reached for them, but then he remembered how bare he was underneath the blanket. He hesitated and gripped at the woolen barrier, shaking his head slightly. Kenny was quick to pick up his nervous cue, “Oh, right. Your clothes were so dirty and tattered, the girls took them to be repaired and washed…”

He stood there scratching his head, unsure of how to remedy the situation. Tweek shifted his legs under the covers and attempted to speak normally, “My legs feel ok… _I_ feel ok…”

A cheerful smile of relief spread across Kenny’s face, “Oh thank the gods. You slept a few days longer than we expected. It was a bit worrying. But the chief will be pleased to hear that you’ve made a full recovery.”

 As he spoke, he twirled around the room with great enthusiasm, eventually ending his little dance by sitting at the far end of the cot. The large grin never left his face. Tweek watched him curiously but didn’t offer any more conversation. Kenny tilted his head sheepishly towards him, seeming very aware of his over-zealous tendencies, “Can I get you anything?”

Tweek thought for a moment, “Is my backpack in here?”

Kenny nodded eagerly, quickly retrieving the bulky olive-green bag from the other side of the room. He made a show of presenting it, kneeling on his knees before Tweek and thrusting it over his head like a sacred offering. Tweek snorted and gingerly wrapped his fingers around one of the straps. Kenny winked at him as he stood back up, “Don’t worry. Everything should be intact, as per our orders.”

The corner of Tweek’s mouth twitched upwards in a sort of half smile. He was grateful to have his belongings back, and someone there to put his mind at ease. It made the whole situation seem less intense. Kenny then added with some hesitance, “But I’m pretty sure Kyle still has your pocketknife.”

“Wasn’t mine to begin with.” Searching through the bag, Tweek found what he sorely needed. He triumphantly pulled out two pieces of glass locked in a thin metal frame.

Kenny’s eyes widened as he remarked, “Oh! So you have glasses…”

“How do you know what these are?” Tweek inquired as he unceremoniously shoved his frames into place. It was a miracle that the glass wasn’t broken. They were a bit crooked though, probably bent from the fall, but with a bit of adjustment, Tweek knew he could get them back to normal.

“I know more than you think,” Kenny puffed out his chest with sheer satisfaction, proud of the secret knowledge he held inside.

“Huh…” Tweek started to realize that even though the medicine man seemed so outwardly expressive, he was more of a mystery than anything.

“You don’t act like your vision is impaired,” Kenny noted as Tweek placed the backpack to the side.

“It’s not that bad. I can see you and most of this room just fine without them. Things father away can get a bit blurry though.”

“Interesting. You would think the chief would’ve been able to fix that. I’ll have to work with him more.” A more serious demeanor seemed to wash over Kenny as he remembered the chief and his duties. All the fun was sucked out of him suddenly, and the compulsive, curious fire in his eyes was replaced by a sharp gleam of focus. He went back to the vile of pink petals on his working table and began to shake them out into his hand.

He started to mix them with strange, vibrant liquids and sages. Tweek sat there watching him, finding a calm peace in the movement of meticulous hands wandering about the sweet-smelling ingredients. A bright blue wildflower seemed to bloom in Kenny’s hand, and Tweek saw a flash of glowing, sapphire irises in his mind: the chief’s gaze. He shivered as he remembered soft hands drifting around his torso, the touch feather-light and teasing. _Rest_ , the chief had commanded, and Tweek’s cheeks burned as he recalled that odd sense of tenderness around the word. Wanting to escape the lingering memory, he broke the silence in the room, “Why did he help me?”

Kenny chuckled but his eyes remained fixated on his work, “Um…did you want to die?”

“N-No! I’m just…so confused…” And Tweek felt that he had the right to be.

“I know. Honestly, I am too,” Kenny sighed, cocking his head towards the archeologist, “Chiefs of yesteryear would have killed you for sure.” There was a grim glint in his stare for a brief second. Then all too quickly, the glint was wiped away, and the thoughts behind it locked behind a small, inviting smile, “Well, now that you’re up, we need to get you ready.”

Tweek’s brow wrinkled, “Ready for what?”

Kenny clasped his hands together happily, truer emotions of joy appearing in his voice, “For the feast!”

“The what?”

“You suddenly hard of hearing, dude?”

Tweek shook his head, terribly confused by being referred to as _dude_ by an Incan medicine man.

“Ok, I’m getting ahead of myself. The excitement is getting to me, I guess,” Kenny brushed off flower pollen and herb particles from his tunic. Underneath his worktable, there had been a small stool that Tweek had failed to notice. Kenny plucked it out from its resting place and slid it over in front of the bed, sitting face to face with the young explorer, his eyes sparkling with glee as he announced, “The chief has declared you a guest in this place.”

A crackle of lightening electrified Tweek’s spine, and he twitched violently as he screeched, “What!? Ack! Why would he do that?”

Kenny only smiled. “To protect you. If you have that kind of status, no one has any right to harm you again.”

Tweek tried to blink back his shock. He thought, _What the hell is this chief’s deal?_ _I’m not worth any of this._

The medicine man continued on without waiting for a verbal response, “Now, the chief would like to get to know you, to make sure you are worthy of this distinction. So, he declared that the day you woke, _if_ you woke, we would have a feast to celebrate.”

“And at this feast, I’m going to be judged?” Tweek bit his lip, peeling off a piece of translucent dead skin, as he formed this conclusion.

“More or less.”

“Great.”

“It’s not a big deal! Think of it like a party, and you’re just getting to know the people around you.” Kenny’s arms were suddenly flailing around again, the same exuberance filling his words as he attempted to be encouraging.

“I was never very great at parties. What if they don’t like me?” Tweek remember high school painfully, trying so hard yet failing to make small talk with a group of teens that were already buzzed on tequila. He tried sipping a Smirnoff Ice to calm himself, but he still felt like there was a disconnect between him and the others. He ended up leaving after just 20 minutes of failed socializing, hands shaking and head throbbing. That’s why he never attempted to party in college. It just wasn’t for him. Those nerves from all those years ago were bubbling up inside his chest, however, and he felt sure he was going to screw everything up if he was forced to be in that kind of environment again.

Like a warm beckon of light, Kenny’s voice saved him from his ruminations. He put his hand over his chest, grinning as he said, “ _I_ like you. That’s a good start.”

A small yip of delight was heard from the hallway. Then, a small head with pale blue eyes and platinum blond hair peeked into the room. When he saw Tweek sitting upright on the cot, the boy’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull, “Hey! The new guy is ok!”

“Yeah. Just woke up,” Kenny crooned as he swiveled on his seat to address him. His voice morphed for this boy, becoming velvety and smooth. The smile he wore then was not overly pronounced; it was more of an expression of subtle adoration.

The boy responded, oblivious to the way the medicine man gazed at him, “Oh, boy! Should I tell the others?”

Nodding, Kenny giggled, “The sooner the better, sweetie. There’s a lot to do for tonight.”

“I’m on it then!” The boy saluted Kenny in mock seriousness, and then waved with enthusiasm to Tweek, “See you later, new guy!”

He skipped out of the doorway, happily humming as he skittered away. After the sound of his footfall quieted, Kenny turned to Tweek to clarify, “That was Butters. He keeps the temple in good shape. Very sweet, not a bad bone in his body. Probably wants to be your friend already.”

Tweek raised his eyebrow and thought to himself, _And it looks like you want to be more than friends with him._ He wouldn’t dare say it out loud. That would be presumptuous. But Kenny seemed to understand that look in his eyes. A small pink blush settled on the bridge of his nose, emphasizing the freckles that dotted his skin. He asked sheepishly, “That obvious?”

Tweek chuckled, shaking his head, “It’s not really my business, is it?”

“It’s practically everyone’s business at this point,” The medicine man raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. Still, he smiled, “Can’t help it though.”

Tweek suddenly felt like he had witnessed something too personal, and he quickly attempted to change the subject, “So, how do I get ready for this feast thing?”

“Oh! Right!” Kenny scrambled off the stool he was perched on, almost knocking it over in the process. From a tiny woven basket across the room, he revealed a folded piece of fabric, dark green in color. Tossing it to Tweek, he said, “Wendy made it for you this morning. She made easy work of fixing your other shirt, so she thought she’d try something more traditional.”

As Tweek held it to the light from a small opening in the wall, he found that in his hands was an intricately woven tunic, much like the ones the men of the court wore. The strands were tightly knit into a diamond shaped pattern that appeared to glitter as he ran his hands over them. He stared at Kenny in awe, “I’m _allowed_ to wear this kind of clothing?”

“I mean, If _I_ am, you should be too,” Kenny shrugged.

_Why wouldn’t you be allowed to?_ Tweek wondered. Then, it seemed to make more sense. It was why he looked out of place here. Why he _sounded_ out of place. “You aren’t Incan, are you…”

“No, most of the court isn’t.” A devilish smile spread across Kenny’s face, as if he was delighted that Tweek had figured this out.

“ _That’s_ why you know English.”

“Another correct statement.”

“But, why _is_ that?”

The medicine man sighed, “Look, I know you have a lot of questions. I understand that all too well. But, right now, I don’t have the time nor the permission to tell you much.”

Tweek held his tunic closer to his body, somewhat disappointed, “Right…”

“You’re a special guest, but—”

“Still a _guest_. I get it.” Tweek didn’t mean to sound bitter then, but it may have come off that way. He wasn’t sure.

“I’m sorry. If you stick around, maybe there’ll be more time to explain,” Kenny’s face softened. He sounded like he would’ve loved to have told him all the secrets he held in his heart, right then and there. It would have been the easier thing to do. His resolve didn’t falter though, and he started to make his way out of the room, “I’ll leave you to change.”

Tweek gave him a curt nod, about to let him go, but then his brain conjured up a burning question. It was about something he had heard ever since he got there, and he desperately wanted to know the answer before he was reintroduced to the court. Kenny was halfway down the hallway when Tweek hollered at him, “Before you go, can I ask one more thing?”

 Kenny came rushing back, “I dunno, can you?” He wiggled his eyebrows cheekily at the archeologist.

Tweek rolled his eyes before continuing, “You keep referring to your leader as ‘the chief”. Doesn’t he have a name?”

Kenny scrunched his mouth together, as if he was debating on whether he should tell him or not. Finally, he seemed to settle on an appropriate answer, “If he finds that he can trust you, he’ll tell you that himself.”

Then he dashed from the room, so he wouldn’t be tempted to change his mind.

Alone and isolated once more, Tweek exhaled heavily. He didn’t know what to think.

He looked at his backpack again and panicked for a second. _Did they take it?_

Frantically digging through each zippered compartment, Tweek finally felt a familiar jagged edge of dried clay. He curled his fingers around the piece of pottery and brought it out of the canvas prison. He held it close to his chest, as if he could ground himself with it, channel all his swimming thoughts through this one piece of history. It was a gentle, but firm reminder of why he was here in the first place.

* * *

The throne room was somewhat quiet before Butters came bustling into it. Out of breath and huffing, he choked out the news, “The new guy…he’s awake!”

The redheaded princess and the chief looked at the servant in surprise. They were the only two in the room. Butters sighed. Of course he came in when most of the court was gone. That was ok, though. The chief should be the first to know.

And the chief did seem to appreciate the news. His shoulders relaxed, but his face remained indifferent, as he hummed, “Good.”

His sister was more demonstrative with her reaction, “Good? I think that’s wonderful!”

“Yeah! He looks so much better!” Butters confirmed, hopping from foot to foot as if his excitement made it hard to stand stationary.

Trisha looked to her brother; eyes changing with some unknown exchange of information. She might’ve seen something that Butters couldn’t recognize, but that he would never know. The redheaded princess was already dismissing him before he could ask, “Butters, would you mind telling Clyde to start preparations for dinner?”

With a small bit of reluctance, Butters bowed and answered with that signature positivity he was known for, “Oh, sure! I’ll get right on that for you, my lady.”

As he scampered away on his new mission, the chief remarked, “His optimism will never cease to impress me.”

Trisha turned on him abruptly, half exasperated, half giddy, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“I think you know _what_.”

“Trisha, I don’t know what you’re implying.”

She huffed, crossing her arms, impatient, “I saw the way you looked at that man, brother. When you held him.”

The chief’s voice changed then, somewhat defensive as he growled, “I hurt for him. I felt for his pain.”

“I think you felt more.”

“You are mistaken.” The chief’s patience was warring thin once more. His eyes were closed, and he forced his breathing to slow.

“You may lie with your words, but your actions will always betray you,” Trisha snapped. She grunted angrily as she created distance between them, stomping to make her frustrations known.

“You don’t know what I feel,” His voice became weaker, barely a mumble. Trisha couldn’t tell if he was speaking to her, or to himself. Her hardened heart softened, recognizing that it had always been hard for him to show the truth of his feelings. There were always little glimmers here and there, but for the most part, his thoughts were hard won. This frustrated Trisha to no end, but she couldn’t change him. It was his nature. All she could do was be there for him.

 “I just want you to be happy, brother. That’s all I want.”

“I’m perfectly happy.”

She shook her head sadly, offering over her shoulder as she left the throne room, “Come to me when you wish to talk.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Hours later, Kenny stood in the doorframe of Tweek’s room, glancing over the blond’s newfangled outfit. He decided the new threads worked for him. “You clean up nice.”

The archeologist tugged at the soft fabric nervously. The tunic barely went to his knees, and he was unused to showing so much of his legs. He missed his regular pants, but nevertheless he choked out a tiny, “Th-Thank you…”

“The chief will be pleased. I just know it.”

“You—You think?” Tweek couldn’t tell why he was hopeful that statement was true. He thought maybe it was because he didn’t want to see the chief _displeased_ , that his disapproval could mean his demise. But that wasn’t quite it. He had seen his  anger directed at his own court. It was severe and threatening, yes, but there was a control to it. A rationality that made it feel justified. The court obeyed him dutifully, yet none of them were frightened by him. This man did not go around threatening death, not even severe punishment by the look of it.

Fear wasn’t the cause of this hope. Fear didn’t cause a small feeling of giddiness underneath his breastbone. Deep in his bones, Tweek knew that he hoped to see the chief’s warm gaze again. To see a pleased look in his eye when he walked into the room. He bit his lip, ashamed of the strange thoughts in his brain and anticipation in his gut. He scolded himself. _Stop it, you lonely sap. You’re fighting for your life here._

Kenny saw the inner turmoil and leaned his side against the wall, “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Tweek. We’re just going to eat food and have a good time. I promise.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

 “As you should,” Plucking a fire-tipped torch from the wall, Kenny then directed Tweek from the little room that had become a sort of sanctuary to him. The walls, tapestries, and woolen blankets had become familiar and reassuring. It was difficult for him to feel comfortable in the long, shadowy hallways just beyond. A portentous breeze seemed to blow through the corridors, with no clear direction. It made Tweek’s arm hair stand on end.

They walked in silence, needing only the glare of the torch and the patter of their feet to guide them. It was a single file march; the corridor was only wide enough to accommodate the width of one person. Enormous murals were chiseled into yellowish brown clay walls on either side of them, a completely different material than what was used for the throne room. It was a detail Tweek had eyes for, and he felt the urge to make a physical note of it. He craved a pen and paper, having half a mind to jog back to his room to see if he still had these supplies in his pack. As he began to anxiously pivot on his heel, however, an image on the wall had him staggering backwards.

“Kenny…” Tweek’s words were scratchy and minuscule in his throat. It was a wonder that the medicine man had heard him at all. “What is this?”

He nodded to the wall in front of him, and Kenny brought the torch closer to the mural. Tweek didn’t know what kind of history this picture showed. A large, male warrior stood protectively in front of a group of huddled children. Little circles were delicately carved all around their figures, reminding Tweek of snow. It was unlike the usual examples of Incan art he had studied in textbooks. There was no god iconography or ritual depictions, yet it was important enough to carve onto a wall. He glanced at Kenny for clarification and saw that he was starring hard at the carvings, eyes darkened in thought. Tweek winced, curiosity quickly diminishing as he watched Kenny’s murky stare, “You don’t have to explain. I ask too many questions.”

Kenny jumped as if he had forgotten about the other presence in the hall. His head snapped to stare at the explorer, and his jaw held a sort of determination, “Well, it’s a part of _my_ history. I think I have the right to tell you.”

Darkness still rounded the edges of his irises, but the sharp edges in his expression had relaxed as he settled his back against the opposite wall. He slid down to the floor, sitting with a calm air of acceptance, and patted the floor beside him, saying, “Now, if anyone asks, you didn’t hear this from me.”

Tweek nodded, taking his place beside him. The fiery torch rested just in front of them, burning happily against the stone floor, as if it was proud to be self-sufficient, contained on its little perch of wood. Its embers enveloped them in a sphere of golden light, perfect illumination for a storyteller. It set a somber scene, one that matched Kenny’s tone as he began his tale.

“Long ago, perhaps ten years now, there was a group of people that wanted a new life for their families. They were all from a tight-knit, bat-shit crazy community, a small town called South Park. Some really weird and chaotic shit went down there, and some families decided it was time to move out. It wasn’t a place to raise children.”

The explorer’s ears perked up at the familiar name, and he couldn’t help but interrupt, “Wait, South Park? Like the city in Colorado?”

“The one and only. You been there?”

“No, never got a chance to visit. But my parents almost moved there to start up their coffee shop.”

“What stopped them?”

“The same stuff you’re saying. That kind of a reputation tends to get around.”

“I know, right?”

There was a reminiscent smile on Kenny’s face, and he seemed to lose himself in memories. The pause in conversation was accented by the sharp crackles of the fire. Unsure of how to ease the silence creeping up on them, Tweek ventured to ask another question. That was the only thing he seemed to be good at.

“How do you know about that town?”

Kenny nodded back to the mural, ignoring the inquiry, and continued, “There were about eight families that wanted a change, but the adults were all just as chaotic as the town they lived in. They thought the only way to start over was to build a new town themselves. Where did they think the best place would be to do this? Peru.”

“Off the grid?” Tweek’s forehead wrinkled. That was a bit… _extreme._

Kenny seemed to know that it sounded insane. He defended it anyways. “They’d seen some shit. It didn’t seem that crazy to them after what the town had put them through. Plus, they thought there was safety in numbers. It seemed doable. So they relocated themselves and their children out here, and for a few months, it worked out well.”

“Then what happened?”

“The winter came. They knew that the snow would come. They thought they knew snow. They thought they were _prepared_ for snow. But food was running short, and the mountains were unforgiving. They had bitten off more than they could chew. One by one, the adults had to go out to find food, better shelter, a water source. Some were successful. Some were never seen again.”

Tweek’s throat tightened, “And the kids?”

“They were the top priority. No matter how much the adults suffered, they were always given the most provisions, always thought of first. That’s probably why we survived.”

_We_. The word pranced around Tweek’s brain. His eyes widened, and he gawked at Kenny while he jumped to his own conclusion. He hoped it was wrong, but Kenny’s affirming nod said otherwise. He then pointed to the enormous warrior, “The chief pictured here is the father of the one who saved you. I was around fourteen years old when he found our encampment. Only a few adults were left standing, and the rest of us were barely teenagers. He took pity on us, since his compassion was great, and his own son and daughter were around our ages. We were led here to the city, where we were granted sanctuary.”

“And that’s why most of the court…” Tweek started.

“Isn’t Incan.” Kenny finished.

Tweek couldn’t help the tears filing along his bottom lashes. He wished he had never seen the mural. He wished he had never asked the man to reveal its story. All he could do was sit there and shiver with grief. Grief over such a great loss. Loss of family. Loss of innocence. “I’m…I’m really sorry…”

Kenny laid a steady hand on Tweek’s curled shoulder blades, “Don’t be. Our families wanted to give us a new life. For the ones who survived, we got just that.”

“But…Kenny—”

“My parents sacrificed themselves to keep me alive. So, I’ve chosen to love the life that was given to me. All of us have. Sure, it wasn’t really under our control, but it’s what happened. The chief took us in and loved us like his own children. It was more than we could’ve asked for.” His voice was intense, assured. There was a deep conviction in his words, even though there was melancholy in his eyes. A tear glittered on his cheek, nearly invisible. No matter what conclusion he came to, whatever forgiveness he had given to the past, it would always hurt. Tweek could see it, feel it. He could only shake his head sadly, speechless and heartbroken for the injured medicine man.

Yet Kenny wiped the wetness from his face, and a sparkle had returned to his demeanor. He seemed relieved enough to divulge some more details before Tweek could ask more questions. “We grew up with the current chief and his sister. We’re just as much their siblings as they are each other’s.”

Tweek’s eyes widened a fraction, “Did _you guys_ teach them English?”

Kenny guffawed in fond remembrance, “Oh yeah. It was like a secret language that we could hide from the elders. It was hilarious to see them scrunch up their noses and try to decipher it. It came in handy sometimes. They taught us Quechua too, though most of us are pretty terrible with the required accent.”

“I noticed,” Tweek laughed, recalling how that small group of warriors clucked to each other, and how the beautiful drawl in the chief’s dialect had shocked him in comparison. He looked back at the mural, noticing a lack of other adult figures beside the warrior chief. Another question formed on his tongue, “Did…did those remaining adults survive?”

“They were middle aged, but when we came here, they lasted a few more years. And those years were pretty darn good,” Kenny’s head tilted left to right as he explained. The gesture was more carefree in nature, as if he was attempting to stretch out neck muscles that had tensed upon seeing the wall carving. When he saw that Tweek had become crestfallen once more, he urged, “Don’t look so sad, Tweek. It could’ve been much worse. In another life, I may not have been here to help you find your way to the banquet hall.”

The medicine man used the wall to get back on his feet, grasping the torch on the floor with fresh vigor. He grabbed the explorer’s forearm and hoisted him up as well. A grin plastered itself to Tweek’s face, “I admire your positivity.”

“It took a lot of time to gain it.” And then they were off again, making their way through winding tunnels of clay and brick. Kenny did not fall back into silence, though. He spoke without turning his head, focusing just like he did when Tweek watched him mix herbs. “Thank you for listening. We don’t talk about it much. I feel a bit better.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do since you’ve helped me so much.” A strange bit of the past conversation popped into his brain again, almost at random. Kenny said he was thirteen when he met the previous chief. And that was ten years ago? Tweek was sure he could do the math, but he wanted it confirmed. “How old are you anyways?”

“My guess is around 23 or 24? The years kind of blur sometimes.”

“Ah. I see.”

“You?”

“25.”

“Huh. Only a few years younger than the chief.” Kenny shrugged.

They arrived at a curtained entryway; this one dyed with a deep royal blue pigment. They stopped short of it, and Kenny muttered to him one last secret, “The chief is very much like his father. The same compassion that saved me saved you too.”

Inside Tweek’s chest, his heart seemed in fold itself inward, creating an immense ache that ebbed through his veins, “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay him.”

“I think the best thing you could do for him now is enjoy yourself tonight.”

Before Tweek could protest, he was shoved past the curtain and into a room full of bustling people. A long, sturdy wooden table sat at the very center of the room, covered in foods of all varieties. There were meats drizzled in dazzling red and purple sauces; their steam wafted about like dancing specters, carrying savory aromas with them in all directions. Fruits and potatoes gleamed with pert droplets of water, freshly washed. Heaps of rice and maize overflowed from clay bowls, and there were small dishes of tiny grub-like caterpillars.

Twelve chairs were encircled around the feast. Five on one side. Another five on the other. One at each end. Meticulous hands grabbed at and set down plates, utensils, arrangements of flowers, anything colorful or edible that could be squeezed into the place settings. A true banquet fit for royalty.

Now that Tweek had his glasses on, he could see the faces of the court’s men and women for the first time. They barely took notice of him, though. Not until Kenny shouted at the top of his lungs, “The fresh meat has arrived!”

What seemed like a hundred pairs of eyes snapped towards them. Tweek never thought that such a small handful of people could unnerve him so much. His compulsive twitching crept up his shoulders and into his neck, and he glared at the medicine man. All he received was a sly wink. “Don’t worry. I only embarrass the people I like.”

And with that he swept off into the distance, offering to help another man with a particularly large bowl of stew. Tweek stood as stiff as a piece of petrified wood. He felt like he was abandoned and alone, out in nature, with ants crawling over his dry, brittle branches and gnarled roots. It took all his strength not to scratch at his skin, or tug at his hair. All the ticks he thought were long past him were flooding him, as if they had never left him.

Before his breathing could become irrevocably sporadic, as it usually did when he felt those irritating compulsions, Tweek was approached by the lofty warrior with skin that resembled polished mahogany. He bowed deep, and his voice rolled elegantly as he spoke, “I formally apologize for the way my men and I treated you.”

 “I-I suppose it’s only…fair? You were doing your j-job.” Tweek flinched as he listened to himself. It sounded like his throat was filling with river water; he was drowning. The air did not satisfy his lungs anymore. They seemed to reject it, as if it was somehow tainted. The stoic figure before him barely moved, eyes as firm as his unwavering posture. A panicked crack of a smile alighted Tweek’s lips, and he attempted to copy the graceful bow he was given. It looked and felt like a rigid tilt of his torso. Several of his vertebrae cracked.

The warrior seemed appeased with the gesture and offered a cocky grin, “This one is perhaps as smart as he tries to look.”

Tweek’s lungs suddenly filled again. He laughed at the feeling. Relearning how to breathe.

“My name is Token, head of the guard. These two train under me.” He motioned to the two other men standing beside him. They must have materialized from thin air.

The first had dark hair and pale skin. He waved a hand in a disarming manner. “I’m Stan.”

The other was the recognizable redhead, with his arms crossed and a pout that rivaled that of a wild boar. “Kyle”

 “Nice to meet you.” Tweek put out his hand to the redhead, attempting to reconcile whatever  tension there was between them. Kyle wrinkled his nose at it, walked off without another word. Stan followed hesitantly behind him, throwing an apologetic look over his shoulder to Tweek.

“I don’t know what I’ll do with those two,” Token sighed, but he was also smiling, as if entertained by the whole interaction. With a hearty clap to Tweek’s shoulder, he sauntered off after them, leaving the explorer to be bombarded by another excited face.

“I’m so happy this fits you! Oh my gosh, it looks so beautiful!” A woman with long black hair had wrapped her fingers around the cuffs of Tweek’s sleeves, examining the fabric with a pleased quirk of her lips. She then dropped to one knee, checking the hem of the tunic for any loose threads.

Tweek struggled to find an appropriate reaction. His tongue and teeth fumbled against each other, “Um…um…thanks…I…”

The woman took him by the shoulders and beamed, “I’m Wendy, the seamstress. I’m the one that made this for you.”

His eyes widened as his hands reflexively grabbed at his chest. She seemed so cheerful and kind. And she had handsewn these beautiful clothes for him. A complete stranger. In Tweek’s mind he was gasping, _Holy shit._ But his mouth translated his shock into something more palatable, “Oh, wow. I don’t know what to say…”

“Just say thank you, silly.” Wendy chuckled.

“Th-Thank you. No one… _no one_ has ever done something like this for me.”

“Don’t mention it. I just knew I had to make you look stunning for the chief tonight.”

“Mission accomplished.” A new voice interrupted them. It seethed from snarling fangs that seemed halfway between a grimace and a smile. The short, squat man began to trudge ever closer. He sneered, a drip of angry spittle spewing from his mouth as he said, “I’m sure the chief won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

Even though this guy was much shorter than him, Tweek felt the instant need to distance himself. Dark, irascible energy radiated from where he stood. It crawled up Tweek’s spine, made him stumble back. “What—What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. He’s just sizing you up, really. Judging you to see if the gods would be pleased to have your blood—”

Wendy threw her body between the two, pointing a sharp, indignant fingernail into the man’s thick chest, “Leave him alone, Eric. You know that the chief vetoed your egotistical sacrifice scheme.”

Butters voice was heard from across the room as he chimed in, “Yeah! We all heard him!”

Token also came to Tweek’s defense, deftly sliding in front of him, brandishing a small knife from one of the table’s placement settings, “I won’t hesitate to escort you out of here.”

The man named Eric put up his hands to feign innocence, “I was just joking, guys. Can’t you all take a joke?”

“Most of your jokes have very little humor.”

Every hair on Tweek’s body bristled as he heard the distinctive, low voice that could only belong to the chief. He stood at the head of the table, arms lazily crossed, annoyance etched into his features. His jade eyes were trained on the tubby rioter, and he offhandedly jerked his head towards the table, “Please, take your seat.”

The steam in Eric’s body was exhaled in one loud, dissenting gust. He waddled to the nearest chair and plopped down on it hard enough to splinter the wood beneath his weight. The others in the room were slowly following suit, albeit more gracefully. Tweek could feel his feet fighting with each other, unable to decide where to go. He would be mortified to sit in the wrong place.

What scared him even more, however, was the trajectory of the chief’s stroll across the room. Straight towards him. Those stoic eyes were now focused on his, and Tweek couldn’t find the will to move anymore.

The chief stopped just a few inches away from him, and he murmured to him, “I am happy to see you looking well.”

“Well…I-I wouldn’t be if you didn’t…um…” Tweek’s vocal cords frantically crashed together, his stutter returning tenfold as he attempted to maintain eye contact. His eyes were definitely green. A very nice shade of rustic green. Maybe he had just imagined how, once, they had vibrantly burned blue. He then decided he was thinking too much about it. It shouldn’t matter. The chief’s eyes shouldn’t have mattered.

And yet they did, because they sparkled like dew speckled pine trees. They seemed to register the meaning behind Tweek’s half formed sentences and shimmer warmly, even though his face betrayed nothing. “You’re welcome.”

If the chief was any closer, he was sure to feel the monstrous thudding of the explorer’s pulse. Perhaps he could see it in the veins stretching across his tightened neck muscles or hear the thunderous beat just as clearly as the blond heard it in his own ears. To escape his body’s chaos, Tweek blurted, “Words! They—um…don’t usually give me trouble…”

The chief tilted his head inquisitively, appearing to test the validity of those words in his mind. An upward quirk of his lips told Tweek that he had come up with his own assumptions. Whatever they may be.

The chief then pivoted towards the table, motioning for Tweek to follow. He ushered Tweek to one end of the it, pulling out the chair that sat there. Tweek choked, shaking his head. He had no right to sit at the head of this event. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like the type to jest?” The chief was smirking now, which made it hard for Tweek to decipher whether there was sarcasm there or not. If anything, he must’ve been amused.

Tweek lowered his head and carefully took his seat. The chief reached across him, taking a gold-plated chalice in his hand, filled with amber liquid. As he raised it to the group, he proposed a toast, “To our unique guest. To his health and prosperity while he is among us. May he find what it is he came here for.”

_What I came here for…_

Tweek wasn’t sure if he _could_ get what he came here for. This whole trip was funded because of architectural ruins and lost culture. Here, it was all _alive_. And he certainly wasn’t a cultural anthropologist. That was a different kind of training he hadn’t specialized in. Regret seeped like ice into his chest. If only he knew.

But it wasn’t like he had any other place to go. If he had been out for as long as they said, his contacts to the outside world may already think that he’s dead. Tweek’s face crinkled as he contemplated this. What was he supposed to _do_?

_Enjoy yourself tonight._ Kenny’s words resonated in his ears as he watched the chief set the cup down and walk to his place at the other end of the table. Tweek figured that was the best he could do for now.

As soon as the chief sat down, the food began to circulate, juggled here and there between a joyous group of people. The chattering was light and persistent; it filled the room with a fizzling energy, a contagion of laughter and stories. Tweek didn’t have much of a choice but to watch a variety of hands pile food onto his plate for him. He was grateful for that. He felt too shy to reach for anything himself. Food that beautiful shouldn’t have been shared with him.

The man to his right was the one that prepared all of it and told him he better fill his gut while he could. He introduced himself as Clyde, saying he had an affinity for things that were lovely and things that were delicious, so why not try and combine them? He had a hearty laugh at that while he eyed the woman directly across from him, to Tweek’s left. She rolled her eyes, but clearly didn’t mind the attention. She turned to Tweek and said that her name was Bebe. She worked with Wendy but sewing wasn’t her forte. She divulged that she was more of a cosmetics kind of girl, helping the princess with all her beauty needs. Tweek nodded politely to the two of them and sipped out of his cup thoughtfully, not offering much in the way of conversation. Not that they minded. Their tongues worked so fast, and they were so excited to share these things with someone who hadn’t heard it all before. If anything, Tweek should have been taking notes in his field journal. They were rather detailed personal accounts that could be interesting to other researchers, if he ever got out of here with the information.

_If he ever got out._

Tweek could feel his thoughts almost tip back into the spiraling what-if scenarios, when a cheerful voice peeped over his shoulder, “May I refill your drink?”

Tweek looked up to see a young face surrounded by a halo of scorching hair. He nearly dropped his glass. She giggled as she gently took it from him, “My name’s Trisha.”

“The princess.” Tweek confirmed slowly, as if testing out his words and the voice that spoke them. He watched honeyed liquid melt out of the pitcher she was holding; it sloshed neatly into the waiting cup. He supposed it might have been _chicha_ , a type of corn beer typically associated with the ancient Inca. As he was thinking, Trisha was talking again.

“Your name is Tweek, right? If anyone gives you trouble, you come talk to me, alright? Even if it’s my brother.” She winked.

“I appreciate that. But really, I’m in debt to you _and_ your brother. The whole court even.”

“Don’t say that. You don’t owe Eric a thing.” She spat, slamming the cup and the pitcher into the table with her rapid burst of anger. Lucky for them, the din of the court made this noise imperceptible.

Catching a glimpse of a sneer in his direction from the little man named Eric, Tweek confided, “I-I figured he wasn’t doing me any favors. I just mean that if there is anything I can do for you, I’d like you to tell me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” A sneaky smile appeared on her face, and she hastily added as she scampered off, “Enjoy your food!”

_What have I gotten myself into?_ Tweek groaned to himself. He didn’t know what that look meant. He didn’t feel like he knew what these people really thought of him. Whether it was all put on, or genuine. The room, the food, the noise. All of it was beginning to overwhelm his senses. A profound shaking in his ribcage and rattling in his head told him he was losing control of his nerves. Chemicals like cortisol and adrenaline were being rushed into his bloodstream, tiny droplets of pure panic. He could bleed panic right now.

Looking at the remaining food on his plate, he wanted to vomit. He clutched at his stomach.

He had been doing so well. For years. This hadn’t happened for years.

He was about to have a full-blown panic attack.

He was lucky he happened to spare an upward glance.

From across the table, the chief was observing him. Face neutral. Or neutral enough. But again, his irises were tinged with a flickering of _something_. Sharp, not indifferent at all. He was searching Tweek’s face again, as he did days earlier. And the calmness in that search, unhurried and unwavering, made Tweek take his first deep breath.

The chief nodded in silent approval. He then steadily reached for his chalice, gingerly tapping it a few times. Tweek gave him a questioning glance. He tapped it again.

Tweek thought he understood that time. He wrapped his fingers around his own glass, still staring at the chief as he did so. The chief watched patiently, gave another small nod.

Their eyes were now only for each other, a soft gaze, and everyone else in the room was too absorbed in their own dealings and conversations to notice. The chief slowly lifted his cup off the table. Tweek did the same. He tilted it slightly towards Tweek. Tweek tilted his towards him.

The chief was smiling now, a true smile that hushed Tweek’s arrhythmic heart. He mouthed the words to him, lips tenderly cusping the air. _“Drink with me.”_

Both brought the ridge of their cups to their mouths. As the burning alcohol trickled down their throats, their gazes never left each other. The moment was fragile, and the only thing keeping it together was the palpable connection between their eyes. They seemed to know this, and neither dared to let it break.

* * *

At the end of the night, when most of the food had been digested and the pleasantries of conversation naturally dissipated, Kenny offered to escort Tweek back to his quarters. Seeing that there were too many twists and turns of labyrinth-like passages, the explorer thought it wise to accept. Butters also tagged along, mainly because he was too riled up by the excitement of the night. He claimed he needed something to do with his energy, or else he’d be pacing in his room until morning.

As they neared Tweek’s room, Kenny halted mid-step and loomed giddily over the tired explorer. “It looks like _somebody_ has a _crush_.”

Tweek stammered, “Wh-What? On who?”

“I think you know.” Kenny sang.

“Nope.”

“Oh come on, who are you kidding? Don’t think we didn’t see your little exchange across the table.”

“You definitely caught his attention!” Butters added reassuringly.

Tweek was suddenly hurt that not everyone had been as oblivious as he thought they were. That moment seemed almost sacred, and now other people were in on it too. He wanted them to stop talking about it. Immediately. So he growled, “I do not have a crush on the chief.”

Kenny smirked, “I never specified _who_.”

Tweek’s stomach flipped, and he couldn’t tell if he was furious or just overwhelmingly exhausted. “That…That wasn’t fair! You tricked me!”

“You’re trying to trick yourself. You don’t have to deny it, you know.”

The explorer looked helplessly to Butters, pleading him with his eyes to make Kenny stop. Butters, oblivious as ever, shrugged and said, “Kenny is rarely wrong about that kind of stuff.”  

Tweek gave up then and there. “Goodnight, guys.”

Kenny threw up his hands in mock exasperation, turning to saunter down the hall, “Fine. We’ll leave you to stew in the juices of budding desire.”

“Lay off it, Kenny!” Tweek shouted.

“Goodnight!” Kenny mocked.

“Have sweet dreams!” Butters called out helpfully while trailing the medicine man down the hallway.

Kenny laughed at this expression. “That’s right! Dream about your sweet prince!”

Tweek stood there, listening to their echoing giggles fade away with distance. He didn’t have the strength walk through the threshold of his room. He just leaned against the wall, hoping that his heart would stop racing. His eyes darted left and right, looking for anything that might distract him. Then he noticed that the hallway was strangely luminous for this time of night. Or maybe it wasn’t night? Tweek had lost track of time, so maybe the sun hadn’t gone down just yet. He searched for the source of the light and found that the hallway was not fully closed on both sides.

To his left, there were dark tunnels that led into the rest of the temple. To his right, there was a small stretch of hallway leading to an opening to the outside world, and a little stone ledge that looked like a balcony without a railing.

Tweek was drawn to it, and he sat down close to the edge, feeling a great rush of peace. There was a clear view of all the jagged mountains that surrounded the city. They pointed up into the inky sky, shrouded with night yet floodlit by strings of celestial bodies. One of those heavenly orbs was a full moon, glowing perfectly white.

This view of the sky reminded Tweek of his childhood, when he was constantly talking to the moon because he couldn’t sleep. His anxiety induced insomnia was hard for him to understand, but his ever-constant nighttime companion watched over him and provided him good company. The moon was his confidant, and she knew all his secrets. But as the years went by, his insomnia turned into late hours studying, trying to graduate and earn a degree. There was no more time to talk.

Yet, even after all these years, he still considered the moon a friend, “Can you hear me? I know it’s been a while...”

She still was shining bright in the night sky, as if she was always ready to listen. She might have been mad at him, for all he knew. All that time wasted in silence. But he liked to think of her as merciful. Maybe she’d take pity on him. “I have a question for you.”

Still, she was steadfast. He took a shaky breath, “Am I supposed to be here? Was this a mistake?”

A voice from behind him answered his question with another. “Do you often talk to the moon?”

“N-No! I—I was just…” Tweek tittered on the ledge, close to falling off as he heard that unexpected response. He whipped around to see that it was the chief standing behind him in all his feather-crowned glory. He was leaned against the wall like he had been standing there for some time, and Tweek felt there was no use in lying to him, “I used to.”

“Why is that?”

“You’ll laugh if I tell you.” Tweek sighed and turned back to face the moon.

“I rarely _laugh_.”

The word laugh was oddly emphasized. Tweek snickered, thinking that the statement was an attempt at humor. He let himself glance over his shoulder at the chief and saw that it wasn’t. His teeth tore at his bottom lip, “Oh…Oh, I see…”

“May I join you?”

Only then did the explorer realize that he was hoping the chief would linger like this. He stiffened for a second, praying he didn’t imagine the question. Then, he nodded his consent.

Sure enough, the chief sat beside him, tanned legs dangling off the ledge, just a few inches away from Tweek’s. He looked up at the sky, and the light of the night made his smooth skin shine, his eyes twinkle like intricate constellations of lions and bears, majestic creatures. Tweek couldn’t help but let his eyes roam his face, his cheeks, his nose, his jawline…

The chief then caught him staring, and the swift connection of their eyes made Tweek’s breath catch painfully.

Then it clicked. _Oh no._

Kenny may have been right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter took so long to upload. There was a lot I wanted to put into it, and I wanted to make it the best it could be. Thank you all so much for your patience and support!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thank you for your support and patience with this work. It has been a long semester, and now that it's done I'm aiming to have 2-4 more updates throughout the month of January! I'm so excited to share more of this story.
> 
> For those that left comments that went un-replied, I read them all and I appreciate everyone who took the time to tell me what they think. I will be more on top of replies in the coming month. 
> 
> Thank you all again and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

To save himself the embarrassment of explaining his transfixed gaze, Tweek stuttered out a diverting question, “What…um…what are you doing out here?”

The chief paused for a moment, taking in the flustered expression on Tweek’s face before answering, “I had hoped to talk to you more during the feast, but I did not anticipate that my court would be so taken with you.”

There was a sliver of naiveté in his tone, as if the thought had truly never crossed his mind. Tweek snickered and added, “Or that we’d be sitting across the table from each other?” 

“That seat is usually reserved for my sister,” The chief clarified.

Tweek’s face crinkled in confusion, “Then why was I sitting there?”

“It was her choice. She sat where you were supposed to sit. Across from Eric.”

“Oh…” Tweek was suddenly thankful for her silent intervention.

The chief nodded, “It was a smart decision. It sent a clear message.”

“Wh-What exactly did that message say?”

“That you are _my_ guest and not to be trifled with.” 

Gradual heat threatened to spread in Tweek’s chest, rising and bubbling at the back of his throat. He was _his_ guest. Tweek wished he could feel something other than this growth of tingling fuzz just under his skin. He chose to look out at the mountains to distract himself. 

“You still have not answered my question.” The chief stated.  

“Huh? Oh! Right…” Tweek took an unsteady breath and looked to the night sky. A wisp of a cloud covered the moon, creating the illusion that she wore a thin, chiffon veil over her mouth. To keep his voice calm, he directed his answer more to her than to the man beside him, “Sometimes, I feel like she’s the only one who listens.” 

The chief raised no questions, made no comments. Tweek’s eyes anxiously shifted to him. He watched the sky as well, patiently. Tweek wondered if he had heard him, yet he enjoyed the distant silence. He spoke better when eyes were not on him, when he was a ghost that whispered secrets that were ignored. Again, his words went up to the sky, “Growing up, it was hard for me to make friends. I was, well, different. I talked funny and would shake a lot. It wasn’t appealing to most people.”

Tweek let his eyes wonder back to the chief, who was still watching the moon. He nodded slightly, sensing the blond’s inquisitive stare. Tweek tilted his head, not understanding what the strange pause meant, “Are you…waiting for me to say something in particular?” 

“I am simply letting you speak your truth, Tweek.” 

His name was on the lips of the Incan man, and the sound made a shiver shoot through his spine. The chief still did not look at him, but he wasn’t avoiding him. It was like he was giving him space, taking away the pressure that comes with full attention. Tweek was grateful, whether the chief knew that helped or not.  
   
His truth. What was his actual truth?

Again, Tweek’s eyes were for the moon, words rapid and easy. He babbled, “She’s been a good friend to me, even if I wasn’t. We haven’t had a conversation in years, but I still feel like she watches me. Like a guardian? I don’t know. Now I’m sounding downright crazy.” 

His ease of speech left him stranded as he cringed at his own confession. This did sound weird. Even to himself it sounded weird. He wanted to bolt down the hallway and escape. His room was only a few paces away. But when his eyes found the chief again, the man returned his gaze and said, “Let yourself talk.”

Those words broke something inside of Tweek, perhaps the fear that made him hesitate. The moon shown in those deep green eyes and the explorer let himself fall into them as he spoke, “Sometimes, I just wished she could talk back. I wanted to hear her. I wanted to hear _somebody_ other than myself. Anyone. I remember, maybe the first week of college, asking her to help me find someone here on earth who could talk to me, maybe even understand me. Wishing for someone who would just know my heart the moment we met.” 

The chief blinked in surprise, and Tweek snapped out of whatever trance he was in. He couldn’t remember everything he said, but he knew there was something in there that was too vulnerable. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Did that person ever come?” The chief watched him still, his face betraying nothing.

Tweek hung his head sheepishly, “No…” 

The chief hummed in response, looking back toward the sky. Tweek bit his lip, desperately wanting to take back all he said. He got nervous. He rambled. He overshared. The shame was coiling around his lungs, tumbling around each bone in his rib cage. The longer they sat there in silence, the harder it was for him to breathe. 

But then, merciful words were half-muttered from the chief’s mouth, purging the air of its suffocating thickness, “Mama Quilla’s magic takes time to work its way to earth.” 

Tweek’s brain began screaming, You know that name from your research! Change the subject! Change it now! 

And so he did. “Mama Quilla? She’s the moon goddess, right?” 

The chief raised his eyebrows, a small puff of a chuckle leaving his mouth. Tweek felt a rush of defensiveness that made him squirm, “What? I thought you said you didn’t laugh!” 

“Forgive me. You are quite amusing.” More warmth encompassed the chief’s tone, a counterbalance to Tweek’s frazzled demeanor, and something akin to a smile graced his lips. 

Somewhat disarmed, Tweek asked, “Did I say the name funny?” 

“Yes, you did,” The chief confirmed. 

Curiosity overruled Tweek’s bruised pride, “Tell me how you pronounce it.” 

The chief glanced at the moon, as if asking her for permission to name her properly. Then, he leaned closer to Tweek, slowly accenting each consonant and vowel. “Mama Quilla.”  

Tweek curled his lips in on themselves, trying not to watch how his mouth moved with such attention. His nervous impulse couldn’t stop his words, though, “It sounds so beautiful when you say it.” 

A small, startled twitch appeared in the corner of the chief’s mouth, yet his voice was still level and smooth, “Thank you.” 

Tweek wondered how the chief did that. He knew that there was a spark of something in that reaction, but he was able to play it off like it never happened. The explorer wanted to know that trick. “I…I’m sorry about all that personal stuff…” 

“The truth is personal.” The chief stated plainly, as if it were common knowledge. 

“Oh. I suppose…” Tweek almost allowed himself to trail off, but then he remembered one of his many questions, “May I ask you something then?” 

The chief nodded. 

“What is your name?” 

The chief shook his head with the smallest of smiles, “You may have difficulty saying my true name.” 

That playful warning charmed Tweek, and the forced air of competence slowly drained from his speech, “I figured. Then I guess I’ll be stuck calling you chief like everyone else does.” 

The chief cocked his head towards the explorer, “No one has said my name around you?” 

“No.” 

“They can’t pronounce it either,” The chief chuckled under his breath, “I am surprised, though, that they haven’t spoken that other name they gave me…” 

“They nicknamed you?” Tweek sucked in a gasp faster than he expected and nearly choked. 

“If that is what you wish to call it.” 

With a smattering of nervous laughter, Tweek scratched the back of his head, “Is it one that I can say?” 

“Yes.” 

“Perfect. What is it?”

“Craig.”

“Craig?”

“What? Is that not suitable?” The chief’s words implied offended, but his voice sounded lighthearted.

“It just doesn’t sound very regal,” Tweek shrugged his shoulders, seeing no harm in admitting a little truth. It was a bit exciting for him to see a more jovial side of this stoic man.

Craig contently sighed, “No, perhaps not.” 

“But I can see why they named you that.”

Craig’s eyes were on his in an instant, probing and burning, “Explain.”

“It’s to the point. Sharp, somewhat cold.”

“Is that what you see?”

His face was back to its neutral façade, his nasal voice reverting to its usual monotone. The shift was so unexpected that Tweek found himself twitching, “Not—ngh…not exactly…” 

Craig shook his head, seeming to recognize his intimidating demeanor, “I do not mean to frighten you.”

“It’s not you! It’s just…me.” Tweek’s hands and arms were shaking at an uncontrollable rate, and he couldn’t even say why. That was the most frustrating part about it. Setbacks could be little, nearly invisible. He was aware of his compromised emotions, the stress, the uncertainty of this whole situation. But they were having a good time just now. Nothing was imminently wrong. His body and brain; however, often loved to believe otherwise.

 Craig eyed the explorer carefully, “You said this used to happen often?” 

Tweek jumped at his words without meaning to and sighed, “It’s my anxiety. I, um, get so nervous that I-I…don’t function…” 

Words were barely getting past his tightening vocal cords, and his shivering only worsened. In an attempt to calm himself, he gripped at his arms and forcefully ran his hands across his chilled skin. Gradually, Craig’s eyes filled with understanding, “This is what happened at the feast…” 

“Right…you saw that…”

“You have been through so much in such a short time. I understand why you tremble.”

“I-I j-just thought I was—ngk—over this a long time ago.” The stuttering and twitching were back full force, and Tweek wanted to hide in the darkest of caves.

“You must be kinder to yourself.” The shock of those words gave Tweek the strength to look at the unassuming chief. He had no idea what this man saw in him, what made him deserve his precious time. Craig only continued, saying more incredible and strange things, “I am sorry I can only restore your body. If I could heal the wounds of your mind I would…” 

In his panic-driven stupor, Tweek choked out a daring question. One that he was not sure he wanted an answer for. “Why did you heal me?”

The reply was instantaneous. “Because you did not deserve to suffer.”

“You could’ve ended my misery then…”

Craig paused, stunned. His passive neutrality transformed into intense passion like a sudden clap of thunder, “I do not believe in the taking of lives.”

“But…I was an intruder…”

“You fell from the sky, brought to this place by something bigger than us. Perhaps the gods meant for you to be here.”

Tweek angrily leapt away from the chief, scooting himself sideways until he was bunched up against the brick wall beside him. Craig let him create space, but his eyes quickly grew concerned as Tweek yelped, “The gods would have sent you someone who…who has s-something of worth. I—ngk—have nothing!” 

Worry spread so obviously across Craig’s face that Tweek felt like he was seeing a completely different person. The explorer knew he wasn’t worth the energy.

Yet it clearly hurt Craig to see Tweek like this. He looked as if he wanted to move in some fashion, debating whether he should close the gap between them or stay where he was. Eventually, he sat back, content and calm with eyes that never wavered from the shivering explorer. Tweek closed his eyes and listened to the man’s relaxed breath, trying to mimic the timing, the sound of it. After a while, time became a distant concept, and Tweek suddenly felt like he was alone in an empty ether. He could no longer hear Craig’s breathing. Sight and sound seemed to become nonexistent. A complete lack of almost everything. Tweek couldn’t even tell where he was anymore, and that was more terrifying than any overstimulation. He knew he couldn’t handle opening his eyes to find an empty hallway, so he tentatively held out his shaking hand, just dangled it in the air. When there was no response from the blaring emptiness, he whispered a shaky, “Please…”

He didn’t know what he expected, but an unmistakable warmth came and wrapped itself around his fingers. Tweek nearly sobbed, eyes still shut tight, “I thought you left…”

He thought everything left.

“No…” The subtle utterance was soothing, and it brought Tweek back into the world where there was definite time and space. He felt the bricks underneath him and behind his back again. He could smell the fresh, dew-scented mist on the horizon. He could hear that deep, low breathing. But he was still afraid to use his sight. If he found Craig’s eyes again, Craig would see right through him, and Tweek would fall to pieces. 

A new sound distracted his weary thoughts. A soft humming, calm and barely there, but it reverberated against the walls and filled the open-ended hallway, overflowing out into the night. Tweek could feel the tiny vibrations in his chest while the strange, haunting melody flooded his ears. It reminded Tweek of another lullaby, a spoken one, “You—you whispered something to me…just before I passed out the other day.”

The sweet song stopped. “Oh?”

“You spoke in Quechua, but I was so out of it that I couldn’t translate. All I know is that it was…comforting…” Tweek let his head loll against the wall, a pleasant fatigue rolling through his body as he felt Craig’s grip tighten slightly. 

There was a tense silence before Tweek finally heard him quietly reply, “It is an old saying. Passed down through my familial line.”

“Ah, I see.” 

“I did not think you were able to hear me…” 

Tweek nodded slowly, his head heavy as he drifted in and out of the twilight between waking and dreaming. The humming resumed, timid in volume and firm in pitch. Tweek felt what must have been Craig’s thumb steadily run over each of his knuckles.

_That was when he began to fall into an open abyss of nothingness, until he was standing in that endless field once more, looking at an infinite spread of stars in the atmosphere. The woman with the diamond eyes and glowing white ball in her hands was standing before him. She beamed, joyful and proud. Extending the orb towards him, she cried, “I have heard you. I have felt you. Soon, you will know my gift.”_

_The orb floated away from her, coming dangerously close to Tweek. He wondered if he should back away, but he felt somehow drawn to it. The space between them lessened until the orb brushed against his chest, pushing itself through his skin. He could feel its light wrap around his heart, making it skip and beat in and out of rhythm. Laughter and tears were at the back his eyes._

He gasped and his eyes shot open. The chief stared back at him, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah…yes. I’m pretty sure…” Tweek panted, unsure why his pulse was thudding so hard, “Did…Did I dose off?”

“I suppose you did,” Craig stated, searching his face once again for something Tweek couldn’t pinpoint. 

“That doesn’t normally happen,” Tweek sputtered, surprised he still felt a warm hand enveloping his. He looked down and stared in disbelief at the tanned fingers gently meshing with his own pale ones. “I usually can’t sleep for days.”

“Days?” An astonished eyebrow was raised.

“I don’t mean to, it just kind of happens.” Given how fast his heart was beating, and the dull throbbing at the back of his head, Tweek could tell this would be another one of those nights.

“Come then, I have kept you from much needed rest. We can continue this later.” Craig pulled Tweek up by the same hand he held steadfast and guided him back a couple of steps to his room. Only when they were standing underneath the doorframe did he seem to realize his grip was still connecting them. He quickly released Tweek and held his hands behind his back, “I do hope you can find rest tonight.”

“I’ll try. I promise,” Tweek smiled. He liked seeing the tiny cracks in the chief’s armor, where there were sudden bursts of emotion and truth. 

The chief set his jaw with a regal air, pretending that he had never once smiled at this man, let alone clasped hands with him, “Then I shall see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight…” Tweek murmured as he watched the chief turn on his heel and hustle down the hall, out of eyesight. 

Tweek didn’t have time to wonder why he walked away so fast. As he collapsed onto his cot, his mind was only for the echoes of the night, replaying every look, smile, word, and touch the chief had graced him with. 

And the promise from the woman in the field of stars. _Soon, you will know my gift_.

* * *

Craig didn’t make it very far down the hall. As soon as he turned the corner, he pressed himself against a wall for support. His shaking legs weren’t going to give that to him.

He clutched at his heart, cursing how fast it was beating, “What the hell…”

It bothered him how defenseless this man made him feel. He couldn’t help but try to speak with him, comfort him, be close to him. Never had he felt such a need to be in the presence of someone.

What bothered him most was that he knew he would’ve stayed by his side all night if he had not stirred from his sleep. He would have watched him dream in the moonlight. He would not have had the heart to leave. 

Once his legs regained some of their regular strength, he hurried off to the safety of his chambers. All the way through the twisted corridors, he could not keep the image of the explorer gazing at the moon with wide, bright eyes from his mind. Nor could he truly forget the sense of peace he felt when he was by his side.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone!


	6. Chapter 6

 

Tweek did not sleep that night. The adrenaline in his veins made his skin buzz with a sensation almost like panic, but somehow very pleasant. He traced small, nonsensical patterns over his wool blankets. His mind raced, filled with nothing and then everything at once. The phenomenon was familiar to him, but tonight he was content to let it linger. 

He welcomed thoughts of Craig. Glimpses of his face, his eyes. Ghostly touches and haunting melodies. He wasn’t asleep, no, but he still dreamed in vibrant detail.

Beyond the doorway, the hall was becoming lighter, every brick drowned in a golden dawn. The peace strung along by the subtle transition of color was ruined by a sudden bellow, “Tweek! Think Fast!”

“GAH!” A bundle of olive tinted material bombarded Tweek’s face, and he was quick to push it away. When he held it in front of him, he recognized the fabric instantly, “My clothes?”

“Wendy thought you’d like them back. She did a nice job on them, huh?” A smiling Kenny stood beside his cot, smug with the element of surprise. 

Tweek examined the articles closely, barely able to find where the holes and blood stains had been. “Absolutely! They look brand new…”

Kenny waved his hands dismissively at the seamstress’ handy work. He was used to seeing her brilliance, and he respected it, but it no longer impressed him. “Good. You can admire them more later. There’s things to do.”

“Like what?”

“First of all, the chief requests your presence in the throne room.” 

“I figured as much,” Tweek exhaled, willing his thoughts to calm themselves. Kenny shot him a perplexed glance. Tweek shrugged, his defenses weakened by a sleepless night and a throbbing heart, “We talked a bit last night.”

Kenny lunged excitedly towards him in an instant, breathlessly chattering, “Oh you _did_? When was this?” 

  
Tweek pushed himself off the cot and past the thrilled medicine man, “Didn’t you just say there were things to do?”

“Right. I’ll get the details later,” Kenny chirped happily, already on to the next order of business. He was on a mission this morning. “Change and bring everything you brought with you.”

“Why?”

“The chief is curious.”

Tweek gave Kenny a daring grin, “You mean _Craig_ is curious?” 

Kenny’s eyes grew large, his mouth locked in a silent, amazed scream of delight, “Now you _have_ to tell me what happened.”

Tweek tossed his clothes over his shoulder, shifting his weight so that his hip stuck out. Feeling more defiant and sassier than he had in a long while, he concluded, “I don’t owe you a thing.”

“Fine. I’ll find out eventually.” Kenny pretended to be frustrated, but the childish pout he wore didn’t last long, “I’ll wait for you in the hall.”

Tweek huffed as he watched Kenny waltz into the bright glow of daylight just outside his room, “Oh great. _You’re_ my escort, too?”

Kenny hollered back, “Take it or leave it, dude.” 

Laughter found its way into Tweek’s voice, and he shouted, “I’ll be out in a second.”

* * *

The redheaded princess charged her way through the halls of the palace. The usual hop in her step stalled as she happened to catch a glimpse of her brother in the throne room. His shoulders were tensed, hunched over something she couldn’t quite see. She shuffled her way carefully into the space and discovered that he was sharpening the arrowhead at the tip of his beloved staff. Rather furiously by the look of it. Sparks fizzled off the sharpened obsidian like delicate fireflies, close to his lips and cheeks. Trisha sighed, knowing her brother’s intense concentration could border on becoming dangerous. 

She called out to him in Quechua to get his attention, _“How did you sleep last night, brother?”_

 _“Fine.”_ He chuffed. The sharp clack of rocks continued to sound. Tiny fires lit and fizzled in the air.

 _“Tell that to your eye bags.”_ Trisha challenged, sliding closer his side. If anything, she knew that he would never put her in danger. If she could get close enough, he would probably stop.

Craig eyed her by the outermost corner of his vision, _“Watch yourself, little sister.”_

His glare stopped her mid-step, but still she persisted with her words, _“The attitude doesn’t help your case.”_  

Her small chide was ignored, and the ominous stroking of jagged stone remained. Trisha’s worry was quickly transforming into alarm. She could usually snap him out of his moods, before he became too lost in himself. When that happened, he could become careless about his own safety. She knew that he could easily cut himself without noticing if she didn’t stop this. So, she blurted out the one thing she knew that would solicit a reaction, _“Too much excitement last night?”_

Her brother’s retort was immediate and terse, accented with one final scrape of his blade, _“Leave it alone.”_

 _“Why are you up so early anyways?”_ She inquired, exhaling a long-held breath when his grasp finally loosened from his weapon. But when she followed his sightline, to see what he was looking at; it became clear that it was not her pestering that wrestled him from his thoughts. There, in the middle of the room, stood Tweek and Kenny, and her brother’s gaze was steadily fixed on the trembling explorer. The glee in her eyes flashed, much like her brother’s did, _“Oh, I see.”_

With a flourishing bow, Kenny dramatically nudged Tweek forward. “I present your guest to you, oh most holy chief.”

“You’re full of it today,” Trisha snorted at him.

A snippy reply was not far away, “It’s not a crime to be in good spirits.”

Trisha slapped her brother’s shoulder, “Tell that to grumpy over here.”

Craig rolled his eyes, grumbling, “Both of you test my patience.”

“See what I mean?” Trisha gestured wildly, playing up her feigned exasperation. Kenny snickered. They both loved to mess with their chief.

The sudden crack of Craig’s spear end against the ground only made them laugh more, “Please, let me carry on with this or take your conversation elsewhere.”

“Just dropping off. Nothing more,” Kenny raised his hands innocently, his cheeks still tight with mirth. As he turned to leave, he whispered cheerily to the explorer, “Good luck.”

Tweek tried to smile as he watched him go, but his nerves made his face contort into a grimace.  

Craig nodded at his sister, expecting her to leave as well. Instead, she crossed her arms with a rebellious puff of her chest, “I’ll stay.”

The irritated chief muttered something back to her in Quechua. Tweek roughly translated it, believing it meant something close to, _“Whatever suits you, princess”_. 

The pure sarcasm in his tone made Tweek smile. It was a classic sibling interaction. Trisha stuck her tongue out at her surly brother and quickly turned her attention to where Tweek stood. She waved at him, “Good Morning!”

“M-Morning,” Tweek croaked, throat still unused to the early air.

The chief hummed, sounding somewhat ragged himself, “I am sorry to wake you so soon—”

“That’s alright! I-I was up anyways.” Tweek clenched his jaw, praying that the chief wouldn’t ask him why.

Trisha placed her hand on Craig’s shoulder, returning to their shared Quechua, _“You’re spooking him.”_

The chief spared her a puzzled look and then swiftly snapped his gaze back to Tweek. He opened his mouth as if he were about to question him, but Tweek spastically defended himself before he could, “I’m o-okay. The stutter is always worse when I don’t sleep.”

A familiar look of concern flickered over the chief’s face, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Tweek nodded his head a little too vigorously, “As good as I can be.”

The chief’s eyes squinted slightly, as if he wasn’t sure he should believe him, “I brought you back here so that I may ask more questions of you.”

“Ask away,” Tweek urged, his grip on his backpack straps increasing. When the chief still hesitated, he added for good, convincing measure, “Don’t worry. I’m up to it.”

The chief sighed, but went ahead with his interrogation anyways, “What did you intend to do here?”

The explorer exhaled, thankful for a question he could easily explain, “Originally, my intention was to study any ancient ruins or artifacts that I found in this area. I learn from the things people leave behind…” 

His account of his intentions stopped, and he looked between the chief and his sister, “I’m not really sure how that would work now, since nothing has been abandoned…”

Trisha piped up with her own question, taking a few inquisitive steps toward the blond, “You would just study whatever you came across?” 

“Yes, I could. Or I could excavate, look for things that are buried under the earth,” Tweek tried to mime the act of digging and brushing dirt off old relics, but the pair of royals did not appear to understand. His fingers hooked onto his backpack straps once more, clutching them so his hands had something to do while he thought. As he did so, he could feel the contents of his pack shift and rattle against each other. That was his answer. “How about I just show you what I mean?”

The siblings glanced at each other, and the chief approved, “Go ahead.”

The backpack flew off Tweek’s shoulders, its contents haphazardly dumped on the floor. Excited yet trembling hands grabbed at each item to try and organize the mess, “These are all the resources I have. There’s digging tools, a few maps, a compass, some measuring tape, marking flags and chalk, and some rulers…”

Measured footsteps came close to where Tweek was huddled. Trisha leaned over Tweek’s shoulder to get a better look at all the objects sprawled across the floor. Craig kneeled beside Tweek, reaching for a small, leather-bound book.

“Th-Tha-That’s a notebook for field notes! Most of it is blank, but I think I might have some written work from a past internship in there too.”

The chief made a small grunt of acknowledgement, pulling at the small clasp that kept the book closed. A satisfying _snap_ signaled that the pages were freed and ready to be read. With intrigued wonder, Craig flipped through the pages, stopping to run his fingers lightly over the ones stained with black and blue ink. Tweek let himself watch the chief touch the crisp paper, observing where the liquid ink clung to his bronzed skin. 

The explorer snapped his eyes back to the inside of his backpack before the small gesture completely entranced him. He could feel his heart flutter as he tried to distract himself. He searched for whatever his hands could find in the cavernous bag, and he nearly squealed when he actually found something.

Yet when he pulled it out, he was dismayed by the object’s condition, “Oh no…my camera…”

Craig’s eyes darted up from the notebook, “Camera?”

“It um…takes pictures?” Tweek spun it around in his hands, assessing the damage. It was certainly banged up in places, yet it didn’t look totally unusable. That is until he looked at the front lens, which was completely snapped in half. He sighed miserably and leaned over to the chief to show him the problem, “This cracked piece of glass is called the lens. Whatever you point it at, while clicking this button over here, it can take a picture of it. It, um, freezes a moment in time.”

“I have never seen one of these before,” Craig scooted closer to Tweek, scrutinizing the contraption he held. Trisha also leaned in from above, interested, cooing with fascination at the gleaming shards of glass.

Tweek shook his head, disappointed, “Too bad it’s broken. I could’ve shown you guys how it worked.” 

Before Tweek could say much more, the chief seized the camera and held it lens side up in his lap. Uttering a small whisper, his eyes steadily blazed that mysterious bright blue, and he ran his fingers across the shattered lens. Tweek wanted to yank the camera away from him before he had the chance to slice himself, but when Craig presented it to him seconds later, the glass was mended. Good as new.

An astonished gasp for air strangled the explorer’s words as Craig folded the technology back into Tweek’s hands, “How in the heck do you _do that_?” 

Blue eyes dimmed back to deep green, and the chief bluntly stated, “My power comes from the gods.” 

“But…But how—” 

“Before I tell you, you must show me how that device works,” The chief commanded, a glint of a smirk darting across his lips.

Tweek fumbled with the camera, making sure it could still turn on. Once the green light on the side started blinking, and the screen on the back buzzed to life, Tweek accepted the order, “Sure. How about I get one of both of you?” 

Trisha shouted in response, “Yeah! Let’s do that!” 

The explorer chuckled and gave the two some more information while he checked the eyepiece, “Now, there may be a flash of light when I use it. That’s completely normal.” 

“How exciting!” Trisha exclaimed, shoving her way in-between the two men.

“Pose whatever way you two want,” Tweek encouraged, lifting the camera into position. The red-headed princess cheerfully leaned over her brother, shifting slightly behind him as she hugged him around the shoulders. She nearly knocked the magnificent feathered headpiece from his head, which earned her an annoyed eye roll from the chief. 

Tweek captured that moment, laughing when he checked the screen to see how it turned out. He turned it around to show the royals, “See? There you are.”

Craig’s mouth dropped open, “It has stolen our likeness.”

Tweek quickly rationalized, “No, it’s almost like what you carve on your temple walls. But more instant.”

Trisha let go of her brother and sucked in an astonished breath, “That is bizarre.”

“I mean, it is in a way. A common miracle, huh?” Tweek saved the adorable picture before turning the machine off.

“Not at all common to us,” Craig replied, not quite able to remove the shock from his face. Tweek nodded sympathetically and turned back to his backpack. He wondered if there was anything else stashed away in there. Then, he finally remembered one piece he had almost forgotten about. He hastily unzipped the tiny front compartment of the bag and slowly brought out his most precious possession: that small piece of clay pottery. 

As soon as the chief saw it, his eyes became wider than Tweek had ever seen them. The princess too seemed visibly struck, for even she was at a loss for words. Tweek tilted his head, confused as to why this little fragment would make them react this way. The chief’s voice became gruff and quiet in a dangerous way, “Where did you get that?”

Taken aback by the threatening tone, Tweek sputtered, “This…This is the first artifact I-I ever found. I came to-to this land once before, when I-I was very y-young, and vowed to myself to come back to find the rest of the pieces. I know it sounds kind of s-silly—” 

 _“Where?”_ The chief repeated, forceful and unyielding. It was the first time the explorer sensed true anger in the man. 

Tweek’s words kept tumbling out of him, as fast as his tongue would let him speak, “Well, it’s kind of a blur because it was so long ago. I remember being pretty high up, probably scaling one of the mountains. There was this beautiful pool of water, and I went to check it out. And this was sticking out of the dirt.”

There were no pauses in between his sentences, and as he finished, he wheezed, letting the artifact fall from his hand to the ground. He trained his eyes on the floor, refusing to look at either of the silent Incans. His body was on the verge of shaking again, and he hated how easily his calm equilibrium could be broken. 

He felt a firm squeeze on his shoulder, and the solidified clay was pressed back into his hand.  When Tweek looked up, Craig stared at him, the anger in his eyes absent, replaced by a shield of neutrality. The chief then stood and grabbed his hand, “Come with me.”

“Wh-What?” Tweek stammered as he was pulled up, unsure if it would be wise to follow. 

The chief clearly did not want his intentions to plainly show on his face. But his sister could not contain her pleased grin as she urged Tweek, “Go with him. You’ll want to see this.”

Tweek did not get the chance to reply, for he was promptly pulled out of the chamber and plunged once more into the entanglement of hallways. It was completely dark this time around. The chief did not bother to find a torch to light their way. By the way he was zooming through the corridors, one would think he was nocturnal, processing some sort of night vision. Tweek could feel an unexpected decline in the path, and he nearly tripped over his own feet as they descended. He bumped into what he assumed to be the chief’s back, and suddenly, they came to a full stop.

In the darkness, the chief’s voice became both ominous and alluring, “You are not to come here without me. Do you understand?”

“Yes…” Tweek timidly whispered, even though he had barely seen which way they went. The chief’s hand released his, leaving Tweek standing in the pitch black alone.

Softly, the explorer could barely make out the sounds of scratching, bare skin against the jagged bricks on the wall. Judging by how long the sound persisted, Tweek guessed that the chief may have been tracing something, a pattern or symbol of some sort. Then came the sound of sliding slabs of stone. Blinding light pierced through growing cracks in the wall, and Tweek shielded his eyes with his forearm. 

Craig splayed his hand against Tweek’s back, hurriedly pressing him forward into the light. There was the sound of bricks locking back into place behind them. Then, stillness. 

“You may uncover your eyes, Tweek.”

Tweek lowered his arm and found himself standing in the middle of a brilliant treasury room. It was filled to the brim with gold cups and platters, jewels, fabrics, statues, most likely objects payed as tribute to Craig, the living descendant of the sun god. Tweek felt like his throat was closing in on itself. He knew for a fact he should not be in here. But then he spotted a chest-height stone pedestal that displayed a lone vase. Or what was left of one. The bottom half looked like it had been smashed and put back together using some sort cementing agent. The top half was completely gone. Only ragged edges reached up into the emptiness, much like broken and savage teeth. Something about it looked familiar to Tweek.

That was when he looked down at the piece of pottery clutched in his hand. The coloring was the same rustic red as the pieces that sat on the pedestal. Tweek snapped his eyes back to the broken vase and swallowed hard, “Is…is that—” 

The chief gestured towards it, “Go and see for yourself.”

Tweek took several tentative steps towards it, afraid that if he moved any closer, it would disappear like a desert mirage. He managed to get close enough to compare the shard in his hand with the rough edges of the broken vase. Much to his utter disbelief, his trained eye immediately found the place where his piece belonged. As he clicked it into place, he could feel joyous, prickling tears at the edges of his eyes, “Holy shit.”

Craig stepped to Tweek’s side, largely unnoticed until he spoke, “It was my mother’s.”

Tweek flinched, forgetting that there was another person in the room with him. He took a bolstering breath to dry his watering eyes and ask, “What happened to it?”

“That is a tale as long as the horizon,” Craig asserted, as if Tweek would be bored with its history.

Tweek placed his fragment of pottery inside the broken object and turned towards Craig, giving the chief his full, rapt attention, “I have time to listen.”

Craig tilted his head, holding Tweek’s eyes with a bemused gaze. Nevertheless, he returned his focus to the unique artifact and began his story, “My mother used it to fetch water for the first time, when she came of age. She said she overfilled it, and it soon became too heavy for her to carry by herself. Her hands let it tumble to the ground, shattering and spilling water everywhere. But she did not want to come home empty handed, so she carried back every piece she could find. _Her_ mother was angry at first, but that eventually turned to acceptance. She knew that my mother had tried her best. It was very important to my mother to remember the forgiveness she was granted that day. So when she came to the temple, she brought it with her. The remains have rested here ever since.” 

From Tweek’s own knowledge, the story didn’t quite add up. If his mother was royalty, she would not have been encouraged to get water by herself. Nor would her vase be so simple in color and design. “Where was your mother from?”

“The outer village.”

That also didn’t sound right. That could’ve meant only one thing. “She was a commoner?”

“Yes.”

The look of surprise the explorer wore did not seem to faze the chief. Tweek knew his next question was simple and stupid, but he had to know, “Here?”

The chief crossed his arms, becoming impatient with all the probing, “Yes. Why?”

That was precisely what Tweek needed to hear. “Craig, if your mother dropped those pieces around this area, they might still be there.” 

The chief’s eyes lit up with interest, “You believe so?” 

Caught up in his own excitement, Tweek enthusiastically gripped Craig’s shoulders, shouting, “Yes, with my whole heart!” 

 Craig blinked several times, startled by Tweek’s sudden outburst, “Why does this excite you so?”

“Gah! S-Sorry. I-I just really…ugh…” Tweek yanked his hands away, embarrassed that he placed them on the chief without thinking. He rubbed his hands over his face to try and cool the heat in his cheeks. He ended up flicking his glasses off his nose. They tumbled to the floor with a series of _click-clacks_. Tweek seriously wondered what his deal was with dropping things today. His hands were typically steady, for the most part. 

The chief’s figure blurred slightly, yet Tweek could still see him crouch down to take the spectacles in his hands. He attempted to slide them back onto Tweek’s nose, unable to suppress a little chuckle when they ended up crooked, “I am the one that should ask for forgiveness.”

Tweek huffed as he adjusted the glasses over his eyes, “I don’t see why.”

“My earlier temper was misplaced. I thought you had somehow stolen that piece.”

“I would never! In fact, I’d like to help you find the rest of them!” Tweek shuffled closer to the vase, resuming his analysis of its size and condition.

“What?” Came the nasal reply.

“This is _exactly_ what I’m trained to do. I look for forgotten, lost, or abandoned things. I can set up a dig site and try to figure out where the missing fragments may be hiding.”

“Is that possible?”

“Very. This didn’t happen that long ago, right?”

“About 40 or 50 years.”

“That’s only a few decades worth of dirt build-up. There’s a good chance I could find them with the basic tools I have.”

The explorer’s fingers ached for a pen and his notebook. He regretted abandoning them back in the throne room. If he had a basic sketch of this artifact, along with some simple measurements, he would have a better chance of identifying what he came across in the field. He prayed that he could draw it by memory, estimate the size of the base by eyeballing.

Craig was also deep in thought, but he observed Tweek instead of the old heirloom. He seemed amused by the explorer’s immense focus on the useless item, despite all the other treasures surrounding them. In a way, it truly pleased him. “How soon could you start searching?”

Tweek’s response was so instant that he nearly choked on his own spit, “Immediately! Um, if you’d like.”

“I would,” The chief decided, “We shall make our way to the riverbank before the sun reaches its peak. I will be your escort through the city.”

As the Incan leader strode toward the wall they had entered from, Tweek asked, “But—Don’t you have other things to do?”

The chief smirked over his shoulder, “Of course. This would be a good excuse to avoid them.”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful comments, kudos, and support! I appreciate it more than words can tell. Also, if there is anything about Incan history or culture that you'd like to share (or correct me on), feel free to do so!


	7. Chapter 7

 

After leaving the secret vault, the chief lead the explorer back into the throne room, where Tweek proceeded to back up his strewn about materials. He made some quick notes about the ancient vase in his notebook before the details could be forgotten. He also brought out one of the medium sized maps, deciding that he could trace a small layout of the village on the back. That way, he’d be able to navigate if he somehow got lost, which was a safe bet if he became distracted.

While he was putting himself together, Craig had donned a floor-length, red cape. With his staff in hand, he leaned against the throne’s arm rest, waiting for Tweek to finish preparing. When Tweek finally zipped up his backpack and looked up, the sudden blaze of crimson around the chief’s shoulders made him bite the inside of his cheek. Combined with his threatening weapon and his nonchalant posture, the explorer pictured what he might have looked like in the heat of battle. Spear poised to strike, blood splattering his face and arms. He wondered if the compassion he had been shown veiled the violence this man was capable of.

The chief moved out of his line of sight in silence. Tweek took that as the signal to follow. He rolled his map and pen into his hand, jogging lightly to catch up with the chief’s large strides. The backpack bouncing on his back was the only noise made between the two. It didn’t take long for them to emerge from the palace walls.

The sun had barely risen from its nest in-between the mountains, casting a supernatural amber glow over the slopping staircase before them. They stood at the structure’s peak, and Tweek felt a pang of sympathy for whoever had to carry his unconscious body of all those stairs. There must have been a hundred of them at least.

Craig was the first to begin the descent downwards. He seemed to glide over them with practiced ease, his cape billowing behind him in the timid morning breeze. Tweek was quick to follow, although he certainly was not as dignified as the chief. He galloped like a wild colt, unsure of how to move wobbly, inexperienced limbs. Halfway down, he spared a glance at the horizon and barely caught himself as he stumbled.

Beyond the gnarled trees and glare of unforgiving sunbeams, an entire village lay sleeping, complete with small shelters made of stone. Colorful textiles stuffed the insides of baskets and hung off the occasional window. Some people sleepily stuck their heads out of doorways, assessing the dawn and turning back inside to wait for full daylight. The humble, yet intricate layout of the city took Tweek aback; he could see nearly all of it from where he paused, “Whoa.”

When the sound of the footsteps behind him ceased, the chief stopped himself. He glanced back and saw that a significant distance had grown between them. Slowly, Craig made his way back towards Tweek, who was too captivated by the tiny society to take notice, “This is the first time you have seen the village.”

He believed the anxious explorer would be startled by his words. Yet, Tweek’s eyes were surprisingly devoid of fear as they moved to meet his, “It’s gorgeous.”

Craig paused, as if he was not expecting what Tweek had said, nor the way his eyes dreamily flickered underneath the glint of his glasses. Instinct told him to hold onto that gaze, but he did not enjoy the heated tension in his stomach when he did so. His eyes flickered to the fields just below them, and he felt strengthened by the solidity of his home, “Perhaps at a later time I will show you more.”

He could not bring himself to look at Tweek as he replied, “I’d like that.”

Without a word, the chief resumed making his way down the staircase with purpose and speed, leaving Tweek to decipher what that meant. As he pursued the fluttering red cape, he reminded himself that he had the tendency to overthink things. Simple words and gestures were usually just that: simple. He may have imagined that flustered look before he turned away.

He unfolded his map once they got to the bottom of the stairs, marking a set point of where the palace stood with a crude drawing. He noticed that there were more stone steps leading down into the village and assumed that they would proceed in that direction. But Craig demonstrated another plan as he pivoted to the left and walked on. A sparse, rugged path spattered with dirt and patched of grass stretched into the distance, and Tweek was hesitant to follow. He eventually did, of course, but not without considering that they were alone on a deserted path. That the chief might have changed his mind. That he could still be sacrificed.

To shake the morbid thought from his mind, Tweek focused on filling out his map, drawing recognizable trees and rock formations where he could. When the silence started to pound at his ears, he asked as politely as possible, “So what are you avoiding today, if I may ask?”

The answer came faster than he anticipated, “There is a ceremony being prepared for. I do not enjoy contributing to it.”

“But that sounds exciting! Why not?”

“I have my reasons.”

The rocky trail they had been following flowed into the mountains, into a break between the solid land masses. The whole civilization seemed to be encased by these sturdy sentinels, except for here, where they created a channel through to the unknown. Tweek made a note of it on his makeshift map before looking to Craig for reassurance. The chief shifted in front of him, showing that he intended to go first, “It is not much further.”

The explorer trailed the chief’s heels, staying only a few inches away. The passage was not very narrow, and what could have been the ceiling opened into the sky. Yet, the light was dim, and the rocks appeared sharper than they were. These kinds of surroundings always kept Tweek anxiously on his toes.

After what seemed to be a half-mile of walking, the passage widened and finally dropped off. A slightly slopped mountain range greeted them. It had leveled off a good distance, creating a sort of terrace. A small stream looped around large clusters of rock that eventually came to rest at a sizeable pool. Tuffs of grass and wildflowers had popped up around it, scattered in between the rocky terrain.

Tweek clutched his map close to his chest, “This is it?”

The chief only nodded silently. His eyes were trained on the pool of water, where the sunrise was neatly reflected by its glass-like surface. With shaky fingers, Tweek haphazardly unfurled his map once more to complete the path with his pen. Once he looked up from his tracings, his breath caught in his throat. The hilltop just above them looked uncannily familiar. He squinted and adjusted his glasses as he realized that this was where his father had tumbled from all those years ago, “I think I remember it…”

With hesitant steps, the explorer walked closer to the quiet body of water. The reflection of the water shown bright in the morning light, and he thought he caught a glimpse of his younger self, full of wonder and anticipation. Waves of nostalgia began to smack him with embarrassing force, and Tweek had to attempt to laugh it off to keep from sniffling, “To think we had been so close to each other, yet so far.”

The chief’s reflection appeared beside his, “It was not our time to meet.”

“I guess you’re right,” Tweek confirmed, glancing at the chief’s ever-stoic face through the water. Their reflections seemed sharpened, distorted but in a clearer way, as if the water could reveal deeper truths of those that gazed into it. All it would take it was a look, and it would unravel them both. Tweek closed his eyes, convinced he had read one too many myths in his lifetime. He abruptly kneeled and pretended to survey the dirt at the water’s edge, afraid he would see his reflection press himself closer to the chief’s side, “Is this still in use?”

“Not by many. We have found several more since my mother’s time that are more accessible to the lower village.” There was a scuffling of dirt and pebbles, and Tweek could hear the chief’s voice move around him as he explained.

“Okay then. So, when this _was_ the main source, where did people usually collect from?”

“All around. Wherever was easiest to catch the water flow.”

“So I have the whole circumference to work with…” The analytical part of Tweek’s brain was taking over, increasingly focused on more tangible concepts, things he could plan and carry out. It was refreshing for Tweek to work and let his training guide him. The questions that formed in his brain when surveying a site could usually be answered, and that was a warm reassurance against the uncertainty of the abstract. “If you were collecting water, where would you start?”

“Here.”

Tweek looked up and saw that the chief stood over the centermost portion of the pool, arms crossed, deep in thought once again. He stared into the pool with such concentration; Tweek desperately wished to know why. Yet, even though his curiosity was fond of playing twenty questions, he stifled his urge by muttering under his breath, “Good idea.”

His tools where once again poured onto the ground, and he swiftly picked up about four tiny, red marking flags. Estimations about the square feet he would likely have to carve out occupied his mind while he fiddled with them. Then he grabbed for his spade, deciding that a 5’x10’ area would be a good start.

The chief had not moved from where he indicated, which was not far from the explorer, and Tweek took the spade in his mouth as he scooted over towards him. Raising an eyebrow, the chief stepped out of his way, quizzically tilting his head to watch him stick a small flag in the dirt. He had to step back even further as the explorer lurched sideways and pushed another down with vigor. Soon, Tweek had surrounded himself in a sizeable square of flags against the bank of the pool. Without glancing up from his newly defined workspace, he explained, “I’ll begin digging around this area to see if anything comes up. That ok?”

“You have my permission,” Craig said.

His voice was farther off than Tweek had expected. He turned his head and saw that the chief had settled himself atop a rather flat boulder, a few feet to his right.

“You don’t have to stay out here with me, you know,” Tweek smiled at the way the chief perched, his knees drawn up to his chest with his forearms crossed on top.

The chief’s reply was short and monotone, as if he was restating the obvious, “I wish to see how you work.”

Tweek brought his gaze back to the dirt surrounding him, somewhat ashamed, “I may not find anything right away.”

“That is fine.”

A small snort of laughter came from the explorer’s nose. The chief had made up his mind, and there was no way he could change it. And that was alright with him.

He knew he would lose himself in his work soon enough, not have to feel the presence of deep green eyes watching his hands. The spade in his hand seemed to vibrate with anticipation, and Tweek finally drew up the courage to make the first drive into the dirt with it. Immediately, he was met with the recognizable clank of a rock just an inch in. It wasn’t unexpected, considering the landscape, but it wasn’t ideal if he wanted to find pottery fragments intact. If there had been some sort of mudslide or avalanche because of rain, the pieces may have been crushed further.

Tweek reminded himself that he had barely started digging, and there was no reason to catastrophize the situation. At least, not yet. There were weeds and grass to clear out of the way. Rocks could be carefully lifted from their sedimentary prisons. The parameters and specifications of his field were still there to steer him in the right direction. He needed to remember he knew what he was doing.

His hands busied themselves, reaching for more tools and loosening more dirt from where it had grown impacted. Steadily brushing away layer after layer, he came across the rock he had hit earlier, and, to his relief, it was not that big. It could fit in the palm of his hand, and nothing of interest rested in the earth underneath. One minor crisis was avoided. One out of many more to come.

With the process of his dig gaining momentum, Tweek barely noticed the chief take off his headdress. He placed it gently on the grass and stretched himself out over the bolder, much like a panther basking in the sun’s rays. Laid out on his back, he continued to watch the bustling explorer, sparing a glace up at the sky every now and again.

The sun persisted to ascend into the clouds. Three inches of dirt had been cleared from over half of the square. Nothing yet of interest. Yet the dig did not slow down in the slightest. Excavating could be strenuous and, at times, tedious, but it also had a meditative quality that kept Tweek going. He became so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn’t even notice the four small creatures making their way towards him.

Their tiny feet made almost no noise, but they did not bother to hide their snuffles and chirps. They seemed to scamper closer in delight, unintimidated by the two men.

As Tweek moved and shoveled away at the damp earth, the little squeals and snorts grew more insistent, and he felt a fleeting touch tickle his arm hairs. He sucked in a startled breath and recoiled from it straight away. When he finally saw what kind of creature had assaulted him, he felt silly for such a severe reaction. It was a guinea pig, covered in patches of tan and white fur. It bristled its whiskers, seeming just as startled by their encounter.

There were still more minuscule squeaks coming from his right, and Tweek was surprised at himself for not hearing them until now. As he turned to address the commotion, his eyes alighted on the chief, laying on his back with a reddish looking guinea pig curled on his chest. His eyes were closed while he brushed the critter’s fur with soft, lazy strokes. Two others investigated the rest of the prone man, one sniffing at his now exposed, dark hair while the other began to play in the long fabric of his cape. The chief did not seem to mind.

Tweek’s brain short-circuited for a moment as he stared at the oddly charming display, then he quietly prayed that he had brought his camera along. As quickly and quietly as he possibly could, he rummaged through the remainder of his bag. He silently cheered when he felt the lens against his fingers. He then crawled closer to where the chief lay, the guinea pigs still indifferent to his movements. They continued to nuzzle against the chief, and the lens of the camera shuttered.

The mechanical noise caught Craig’s attention, and he opened one eye to peer at Tweek, “Was that your cam-er-a?”

“Camera,” Tweek corrected, chuckling at the difficulty the chief had with the new word, “I just took another picture, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“I…I just…thought it was sweet.”

The chief sat up, carefully cradling the guinea pig at his chest in his hand. He then motioned with his free hand for Tweek to come closer. The explorer obliged, coming to sit next to him on the boulder. He turned the back of the camera towards him, revealing the still image of a regal man bombarded by fuzzy, affectionate rodents. Craig smiled at it, then at Tweek, “You are strange.”

“I’m aware,” Tweek replied, disarmed by the chief’s peculiar habit of mixing potentially aggressive statements with such a kind voice. Strange seemed like a compliment, even though Tweek wasn’t sure if it was meant that way. He didn’t want to overthink it, so he drew attention to the affection he showed the critter in his hand, “Um, don’t you guys normally eat guinea pigs?”

“Yes. I have pardoned some, though.”

“What does that mean?”

“We do not eat _all_ of them.” A bit of snark was back in his nasally tone as he placed the guinea pig on his lap. One loud yip came from the grass below them, and Craig chuckled at the white and tan guinea pig tugging at the lace of Tweek’s boots, “Here, this little one seems interested in you.”

He swiftly scooped the rodent up and held it out to Tweek. The blond shook his head, “I…I don’t think I should…”

“You will not hurt him. They are very tough beasts,” The chief assured, placing the rodent on top of the explorer’s shoulder. Tweek froze, even held his breath, worried that the little guy might fall off if he moved the slightest bit. He could not, however, hold back a snicker as the guinea pig’s whiskers rustled against his ear. He nervously bit his lip, willing his shoulders to stop shaking with glee. This time, the quizzical animal rose on his hind legs and shoved his paws into Tweek’s hair. Tweek couldn’t help but throw his head back in laughter, instinctively supporting the fuzzy creature’s back with his hand.

Once the guinea pig decided to make his own excavation out of the explorer’s scalp, Tweek had bolstered up enough courage to take him into his hands. He wrapped his paws tentatively around one of the fingers suddenly grasping at him and looked up at the explorer with the biggest black eyes. Tweek glanced back at Craig, trying to see what he made of all this. The sudden eye contact made the chief blink, and the smallest contraction in his pupils made Tweek think he may have caught him staring. Then again, he could be imagining reactions that were not there. The sun was awfully bright at this time of day, whatever time that was. It could have been the trick of the light.

The chief returned his gaze to the pool of clear water, and the explorer went back to playing with the guinea pig. It wasn’t until the “tough beast” finally settled himself on Tweek’s thighs that Craig decided to speak, “I will watch over you like the sun looks after the moon… _”_

“Wh-What?” Tweek spluttered, prompting the guinea pig on his lap to leap onto the grass.

Craig placed his own fluffy companion on the ground and watched the pair waddle together to the edge of the water. He did not look away, “This is what I said to you, before you surrendered to the spell.”

“Oh…”

Every hair on the back of Tweek’s neck stood straight in the air. He did not expect the chief to _translate_ what he had said. And now that he had heard the words in English for the first time, he understood why he hadn’t the night before. It wrapped the two of them into a myth of the sun and the moon, of the many throughout cultures that paired them together as loved ones. The intimacy of such a reference caused Tweek’s head to swim. Suddenly, Craig’s long stares into the pool made sense to him. He had been looking into the sun’s reflection.

The chief offered a little more explanation, when the silence between them became unbearable, “It was something my father often said to my mother…what _his_ father said to his mother…in times of deep grief or change.”

“It’s very beautiful…” Tweek was the first to raise his eyes.

The chief met them, “I am glad those words brought you some comfort.”

Even though Craig’s gaze offered nothing but sincerity, nagging thoughts burrowed deep into Tweek’s mind. What had he done to warrant this? None of it made much sense to him. And because he lacked that understanding, he immediately felt unworthy, “I don’t think I deserved them.”

“May I show you something?” Craig’s eyes snapped to his faster than they ever had. Tweek, out of pure shock, could do nothing but nod his head. The Incan royal lightly grasped his hand and brought it to rest on the explorer’s chest, “What do you feel?”

Tweek stiffened, feeling the incredible warmth of the hand atop his, the frantic pulse beneath his palm, “My heart…pounding…”

“Does that mean _nothing_ to you?”

“I-I’m not sure I understand…”

“Last night, you said you had nothing of worth. Yet, you have a beating heart. Life itself sleeps and wakes there,” The chief’s eyes flashed as he spoke, dangerously impassioned. He took Tweek’s other hand in his and guided it to where his own heart throbbed, “To force yours to stop beating is to stop my own as well.”

“Craig…”

“Every heart is equal.”

The air had suddenly disappeared from the atmosphere. For a moment, everything was completely quiet. Perfect in its stillness.

And to Tweek’s bewilderment, he no longer heard the mocking voices in his head. Craig’s heartbeat in his hand was all he could think of, and how it steadily began to sync with his. The chief smiled; he could feel it too.

Then, a shrill voice broke the fragile moment, “There you two are!”

Tweek jolted back at least at foot away from Craig, clutching at his shirt collar as he tried to steady his breath. Unphased by the intrusion, the chief only showed his annoyance through a heavy sigh, “Oh gods…”

A wildfire of red hair bounded towards the pair, hollering, “It took me forever to figure out where you two went!”

The chief shouted back, “There was a reason for that.”

The princess stopped short of the pool, leaning her hands against her knees as she panted and smiled. The teasing lilt in her voice served to try Craig’s patience even more, “I wanted to know what kind of work you were making this poor man do.”

“Trisha—”

Tweek interjected before they had the chance to squabble, “I’m happy to do it, as a favor to your brother.”

“I’m glad to hear that. But, in all honesty, I came here because I wanted to have a word with you, Tweek. In _private_.” Trisha gave a pointed to her brother, slightly jerking her head back towards the trail into the city.

Craig grimaced, but complied with his sister’s request. He donned his headdress once more as he rose to his feet, a neutral gaze back on the explorer, “I trust you can find your way back?”

Tweek pointed at the map rolled up under his pack, “It’s all right there.”

“Then I shall take my leave,” Craig pivoted and took a few steps towards the path, but quickly spun back around to call back, “Be sure to be inside the city walls by sundown.”

“I will.” Tweek grinned with a tight jaw, attempting to hide his disappointment in the chief’s departure.

The princess and the explorer watched as he walked away. The princess smirked, “He’s fascinated by you.”

“Wh-what? How…How can you tell?”

“Sister’s intuition.”

“Ah.”

Trisha swiftly took her brother’s place on the boulder, an apologetic expression falling over her face, “I’m sorry I chased him away, but he wouldn’t have liked what I’m about to ask.”

“Which is what?” Tweek ventured. _This should be good,_ Tweek thought to himself sarcastically.

“How would you like to come to a little meeting tonight?”

“Meeting?”

Trisha perked up while she rambled, “Yeah! Some members of the court and I are preparing for something very special, and we all agreed it would be nice to have some extra help from you.”

“Wait, this wouldn’t have to do with some sort of ceremony, would it?” Tweek remembered the sullen words of the chief about his duties that day and couldn’t shake the feeling that it did.

“Oh! Did Craig already tell you about it?”

“Not really. He just said he was avoiding it.”

Trisha shook her head disapprovingly, “Yeah, I know. I wish he didn’t, but I can see why.”

“I don’t,” Tweek sighed.

“I’ll tell you all about it if you join us tonight. It’ll be fun!”

“I…I don’t know…”

“We’ll be outside the east palace wall. If you decide to take me up on the invitation, we’ll be pretty hard to miss.”

“O-Ok!”

Trisha bounced up, having relayed her message to him, and skipped away nearly as fast as she had come. She turned over her shoulder to gift him some parting words, “Stay safe out here, Tweek!”

“Alright…” Tweek mumbled, picking up his spade and squatting back down into the dirt. The loneliness did not subside until he sunk its silver tip into the moist earth. Even then, he could still the chief’s hand on his.

* * *

_The land of stars filled his vision, and the sparkling lady stood before him. The large ball she usually held was absent, and her empty hands were folded comfortably over her stomach._

_“You again?” Tweek questioned._

_“Me again.” The woman answered._

_Tweek looked up to the multitude of stars, not quite remembering how they got there, how the sky shifted so fast, “I’m…dreaming?”_

_The woman grinned, her teeth like diamonds, “It is the best time to speak with you. Your mind becomes open and free.”_

_Tweek squinted at her, “You seem familiar…”_

_“I should be by now.”_

_“Who are you?”_

_“You already know me.”_

_“I…I’m not sure…”_

_“It will come to you in time. Have patience.”_

_Tweek lowered his head, full and heavy with unanswerable questions, “Alright…”_

_The woman stooped in front of him, lifting his chin with her forefinger, “I must tell you something before you wake.”_

_“What is it?”_

_Her words were not straightforward, but Tweek had always enjoyed deciphering poetry, “When there is a fire over the earth and in your heart, you must repeat these words.”_

_She spoke in Quechua then. Five distinct words. Tweek knew the first three. He repeated them in English._

_“I am the…what?”_

_The woman shook her head vigorously, patting her fingertips to her mouth, “In Quechua, Tweek. In Quechua.”_

_Again, she said each of the five words, slowly and meticulously, urging Tweek to repeat them after her. Tweek followed her lips, reiterating the phrase until the woman was satisfied._

_Still, Tweek was concerned, “But I don’t understand the last two.”_

_“They will know. All you need to do is speak this.”_

_“But who is they?”_

_Lightening flashed, causing the stars to swirl gracefully in the atmosphere._

And Tweek found himself laying in dirt, one of his outstretched hands buried in the mud underneath the surface of the pool. The sudden feeling of wet skin made Tweek yelp, “Gah! Shit!”

Something rough scraped against his fingers, and his fright morphed into curiosity. He grasped at it and pulled. His hand came away with a piece of muddy pottery. Red, clay pottery. The kind he was searching for. “Some were sucked into the water…”

That seemed to make sense, if the pool had shifting tides over the years. But there was something else to this discovery. The piece seemed to turn up like magic, after hours of digging. Hours in the sun that was no longer there. Tweek then suddenly perceived how dark it had become and looked up to see the first glimmers of stars in the sky, “Oh shit!”

Had he really fallen asleep out here for that long? He didn’t even remember feeling tired.

He scrambled to put everything away. Eventually he gave up and put the essential tools into his backpack. Fumbling with his map, he figured it was of little help now, considering it was hard to see it in the darkness of the twilight.

He was lucky enough to find the secret tunnel through the mountains, but once he got through that, he was completely turned around. The ground no longer resembled a trail, and the landmarks he had marked down seemed to shift with every swivel of his head.

There was an unexpected warm glow against the parchment of his map. Again, he got lucky. A light to see where he was going. _Wait a second._

The light was tinted orange, the kind that may have been given off by fire.

There were also voices in the distance. Suddenly, Tweek knew he was beside the east palace wall.

He crept closer to the voices, attempting to stay hidden in the underbrush. He could see a large bonfire, and a small circle of people. Someone stood at the head, just behind the fire where shadows concealed their face. Her voice, however, was unmistakable. Trisha presided over the group of court members, orating in Quechua, _“Look, if we don’t find the one, we just continue on like usual. Have a more traditional celebration or something. It’s not like we’ve announced much to the public yet.”_

 _“The search is taking too long. We need to just pick someone and move it along.”_ Just by the tone, Tweek guessed that that was Eric.

Trisha snapped back, _“This will dictate the rest of my brother’s life! I will not rush this.”_

A small squeak at Tweek’s side made him jump, and he tumbled out of the bushes. The tan and white guinea pig poked its head out from the foliage, staring at the explorer, then shyly darting off. Tweek sighed, not wanting to turn to face the fire’s glow, for he knew the whole crowd was aware of his presence now.

“Oh, Tweek! I’m glad you finally decided to stop by!”

Especially Trisha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thank you for reading this story so far. I am very happy with the way it's turning out. But, with a heavy heart, I have to tell you guys this may be the last chapter until I graduate in May this year. It all depends on how much time I can devote to writing for fun during this next semester. And education is also very important to me since it helps me improve my writing! I may be able to have an update or two appear before May, but I cannot promise this. 
> 
> But I do have a definite plan, as you can see by the change in the number of chapters planned. We're halfway there!
> 
> Thank you again for all of your guys support and feedback! I hope to be back at it again soon!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! I'm back a bit earlier than expected. Because of the quarantining happening across the world, and classes moving online, I had a little more time to work on this chapter for you all! I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy during these hard and chaotic times. 
> 
> Hopefully I can keep this up to keep you all entertained!
> 
> As always, thank you for your support.

“Y-Yeah, um, me too?” Tweek glanced around, finding ten different faces staring back at him. Some looked thrilled, others content or pleasantly surprised. Several were annoyed. One was angry. It was rare to find Eric without a scowl. It crumpled further as he leered at the explorer.

Trisha motioned warmly with her hands, gesturing to where the others sat around the fire, “Don’t be shy. Come on over here!”

As Tweek heaved himself off the ground and stepped into the light, Kyle grumbled, “Really, Trisha? You invited the nerd?”

Eric was quick to jump onto the voice of dissent, leaping to his feet as he bellowed, “This is an outrage! An outsider in our midst? I do not approve!”

Trisha rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Her hip stuck out at the sassiest angle she could muster. “If you don’t like it, Eric, you can leave.”

The flame in Eric’s voice fizzled. “Whatever.”

And down he sat.

Tweek fiddled with his glasses, readjusting them after his slight tumble, pretending he didn’t hear the tense exchange. He looked for an empty spot on the various rocks and logs everyone made seats out of. It seemed crowded enough as it was, and he began to consider just scampering back into the bushes. Before long, he was relieved when Kenny waved at him, scooting over on the flat expanse of rock he and Butters shared, “Don’t worry, dude. You didn’t miss much.”

Trisha nodded, “Yeah. We were just discussing some…things.”

Tweek didn’t trust the nervous catch in her voice. “It actually sounded like I interrupted something important.”

“I forgot you understand Quechua.” Trisha pressed her lips together, attempting to feign a flippant air. “I think we can take a break from that topic for now. There are other things to attend to.”

“Then let’s talk about the food!” Clyde suggested from where he perched on a squat tree stump.

“Or the costumes!” Wendy added, giggling along with Bebe. That was obviously something they were excited to be making.

Butters shouted excitedly from the opposite side of Kenny. “Or the marriage!”

Trisha nearly leaped at him, “Butters! Shhh!”

“I thought she didn’t want to talk about the girl,” Butters said dejectedly, asking Kenny with his eyes what he did wrong.

“Well, she’s half of the problem. But good try, sweetheart.” Kenny pat his shoulder reassuringly.

Tweek sputtered, “Marriage? What girl?”

Token groaned from the outer reaches of the semi-circle, “Must we really go through the trouble of explaining this?”

“To an outsider, might I add?” Eric huffed, almost knocking himself off the tiny boulder he sat on.

Stan spoke for the first time in what seemed like days to Tweek, his voice whiny and tired, “It probably won’t happen anyways.”

“I second that,” Kyle sighed.

Trisha stood in front of the blazing bonfire, waving her hands with exasperation, “Would you all quit being pessimists for a split second?” She turned to Tweek to explain. “It’s been a point of tension within all the festivities.”

Token piped up, “Which is why we should move on—”

“But I will explain it to our guest because I think we _all_ need a reminder of _why_ we’re doing this,” Trisha snapped, rounding the fire and coming to stand on a rather tall stone platform behind it. It raised her above the flames, making her look like the true presider over the group.

Tweek still had no inkling of what any of this was about. He didn’t even know what festival they were talking about. He knew quite a bit about them, but there were no real clues he could pick up on to tell him which one it might be. With the upmost caution, he asked, “What exactly you all _doing_?”

“It’s kind of a long story.” Trisha bit her lip.

“And she’s not kidding,” Kyle groaned.

Tweek settled himself where he sat and replied, “Don’t worry. I enjoy long stories.”

* * *

Craig was not worried. He just couldn’t seem to sit still.

He usually enjoyed the quiet of the night, and yet he couldn’t help but pace the floor of the throne room, creating scuffling noises with his woven scandals to keep his mind from wondering. He knew _why_ the temple was near silent. He knew where the court would be at this time of night. But there was one person he couldn’t account for, and it bothered him.

He knew he shouldn’t have left him alone. He wondered how long Trisha had stayed with him, or if she knew of his whereabouts. He would have asked her then and there, but then he would have to risk getting caught up in their _plans_. Craig grimaced at the thought.

But the more time passed, the more he felt willing to take that risk. The dark surrounding the mountains could easily overwhelm even the worthiest of warriors, so how could he have expected Tweek, an archeologist, or whatever he called it, to make it back safely? Yes, he had a map, but then again, there would be little light to see it with. And it would take very little to stumble off the paths, to tumble down and—

Craig cut himself off there. This was not like him. To worry. Craig shook his head at himself. No, he wasn’t worried. Of course, he wasn’t worried. Perhaps just concerned.

* * *

“Well, this story one may be more relevant than you think it is.” Trisha clarified.

“How so?”

“I know what you’re looking for out there.” Trisha pointedly locked eyes with Tweek. “What do you know about the vase?”

Being thrown for a loop, the vase fragments being nearly forgotten in his mind, Tweek’s stutter reappeared. “Th-That it belonged to your m-mother…once upon a time.”

He added that last bit for the humor of it. Trisha didn’t laugh. “And what do you know of my mother?”

“Precious little.”

“But you _do_ know she was a commoner, right?”

“Yes…”

“She and my father were _never_ supposed to meet.”

“I figured. And yet they did.”

“Because of the vase.”

Tweek twitched, “What?”

Trisha began to explain, her arms getting involved as she talked, “I mean…It wasn’t just the vase—”

“But what does that have to do with _them_?” Tweek exhaled. He was afraid that this artifact had even more sentimental worth than he bargained for.

“I suppose that was something Craig conveniently left out.” Trisha quipped. She had a strange way of getting her voice to sound like it had an implicit eyeroll in it. Then, her demeanor became serious, or at least as serious as she could get, and she lifted her hands above her head in exaggerated melodrama as she started her tale, “Years after my mother broke that vase, just as she was about to be promised in marriage to another man of the village, she had a vision. In her dreams, the goddess of the moon came to her, and said, ‘Go to the place where you broke your mother’s possession. There, I shall make things whole again.’ Of course, she knew exactly where she meant—”

Tweek interjected, “But the vase isn’t whole—”

“Would you let me finish?” Trisha adjusted her royal robes, rolling up her sleeves, beginning anew, “My father was out stargazing that night by the water, which he had a habit of doing, and was surprised to see someone else there so late. He asked her why she had come, and she laughed and said the moon told her to. And as she laughed, my father fell in love with her. At least, that’s always what he said when he told this story.”

Tweek was confused as ever. “How did that make the vase whole, though?”

Trisha shook her head. “I don’t think she was talking about the vase.”

“Can we get to the point?” Token shouted.

Stan hollered, “Yeah! This is wasting time!”

Wendy sighed dreamily, placing the palms of her hands against her rosy cheeks, “I kind of like hearing it again. It’s romantic.”

Bebe placed a hand on her chest and chattered along with her, “I know! I wish _my_ laugh was prettier. Maybe I could get a guy too.”

“Hey! Let’s get back on track!” Trisha clapped her hands together, as if that would get everyone to completely quiet down. It took several minutes of said clapping, then eventually stomping irritably, before she could resume, “The night they were wed, my mother had yet another visitation by the goddess. She said that my father was the sun to her moon, and that their union would be sacred, and if she wanted the same for her children, they should find their match by trusting in her.”

“So the moon goddess gave her a saying…” Kenny continued.

“That she would pass down through the generations…” Clyde tacked on.

“That would become a guarded secret of the royal family,” Kyle begrudgingly finished.

“We’ve been over it that many times?” Trisha asked, astonished. Everyone nodded. “Oh.”

“And what is the saying?” Tweek questioned.

“I can’t tell you. Only my brother and I can know for now.”

“Why?”

“Because the one who speaks those words would become our betrothed.”

Tweek’s blood froze in his veins. So _that’s_ why there was all that talk about marriage.

Trisha saw the stunned expression on Tweek’s face and sighed sadly, “Ever since my brother ascended to the throne, we’ve been scrambling to find him a queen.”

“And if word got out on what that saying was, we’d have people clamoring to try to prove they were chosen.” Kenny explained helpfully.

Clyde laughed nervously, “It’s not like anyone has actually said it yet.”

“I’m surprised no one has said it by accident.” Kyle scoffed.

“Wait, so you’re still looking for the girl?” Tweek’s heart sunk an inch in his chest while he spoke. He wasn’t quite sure why. “This doesn’t sound like something I can help with.”

“Sure you can!” Trisha vaulted from her podium, skipping over to Tweek enthusiastically. The smile on her face made Tweek nervous, and he figured out why as she spoke her next, devastating words, “You’ve been getting awfully close to my brother, and I have a feeling that you might be just the person to persuade him to come and join us again. If the ceremony ends up happening, he should have a hand in planning the darn thing.”

Tweek could feel tremors spreading across his back, down his arms. He regretted ever eavesdropping on this gathering. He regretted falling asleep until dark. He regretted getting lost. He did _not_ want to be in the middle of this, so he began to compile the best excuses he had to refuse her. “I’m not so sure. When I tried to talk to him about it earlier, he didn’t seem very enthused.”

“I’m sure he didn’t,” Trisha said, unwavering.

“I got the cold shoulder for a while after that,” Tweek added for good measure.

“But I’m sure if you _kept_ bringing it up—”

“He’d avoid me like a plague!”

“He wouldn’t do that. I swear.” Trisha eyes were pleading now, desperate and sad.

“Trisha, I don’t know if I can—”

“You made me an offer, Tweek.”

“I did what?”

A coy smile revealed Trisha’s perfectly straight teeth. “At the banquet, silly. You said, ‘If there’s anything I can do for you…’”

“But…But I didn’t mean—!” Every decision, everything he had ever said or done here, was suddenly coming back to bite him. Hard.

“Well, _this_ is what you can do for me.” She said with finality, as if the deal was made and settled.

“Trisha…”

“Look, I at least want to know _why_ he’s avoiding it.”

“He said he had his reasons.” Tweek stated, remembering the exact foreboding tone Craig had used earlier.

Trisha’s eyes softened, and she placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Tweek, if anyone could get my brother to open up, I’m sure it’d be you.”

* * *

Tweek practically flew up the temple steps, hoping the exertion would give an outlet for the rapid beating in his chest. The meeting had gone on for at least a half hour more after Trisha had posed her request, but he could barely recall anything that was said after that.

All that buzzed in his mind was the vase, the chief, and the marriage. He should be happy for him. That’s what friends do, right? Cheer for other friends’ accomplishments? Take delight in their success and happiness? After all, weddings make people happy, don’t they?

Yet, Tweek couldn’t help but hope that they wouldn’t find anyone who knew the mysterious phrase. He felt guilty and selfish for it, but the strange hope wouldn’t leave him alone.

_You’re a terrible friend_ , a voice in Tweek’s head whispered.

_I’m not sure if we even **are** friends,_ Tweek replied to himself.

More voices bombarded him, from all sides.

_Right. Who would want to be friends with you?_

_You’ve only known him a few days._

_He probably doesn’t care about you._

One thought stuck out bigger and more vicious than the rest.

_You want to be **more** than friends, don’t you? _

Tweek’s body bent in half, and he gripped his knees as he wheezed. He had made it to the top patio of the temple, not quite remembering the trip up.

He stared at the stone tiles beneath him as he questioned himself, unrelenting. Was he _jealous_? Was that what this was? His jaw clamped down, and his teeth pushed together, straining against each other. He never felt more stupid in his life. He had no right to be jealous of a girl that didn’t exist yet. He had no claim to the chief either. What was even worse was that those simple facts didn’t make it hurt any less.

A light rasping on the stones in front of him made him look up. The chief stood there watching him, a burning torch held in his right hand. His face was flecked in shadows and sparks of fire, concealing the expression that Tweek guessed to be neutral.

His stomach seemed to lurch as he watched the amber light flicker across his features. _Damn it_ , he thought. He didn’t know if he had the strength to speak to him now.

The chief came closer, stooping slightly, illuminating Tweek’s face, “Are you alright?”

He panted, trying to think of words that could pass for a normal sentence. “Oh…well…um…”

The tone in Craig’s voice made Tweek think he would’ve crossed his arms if he could, “I was just about to go looking for you.”

The air Tweek had been hastily gulping as he sprinted up the steep staircase caught up to him. It had dried his throat, and he choked as he tried to swallow. “But I had a map. I was fine—”

“I thought I said to be back in the city by dark.”

“I-I was! Just…just, got sidetracked. That’s all.”

The chief’s eyes narrowed, “With what?”

Tweek’s brow furrowed, unsure if now was the best time to talk about this. He hadn’t even sorted out his own feelings about it yet, and he had doubts that Craig would be as neutral as always if he knew where he had been. The slight widening of the chief’s eyes caught his attention, however, and Tweek had to pause his inner deliberation. The change didn’t express anger, nor did it show much suspicion. Tweek gasped, “Wait, were you worried?”

Craig took a step backwards, as if those words alarmed him, hesitating before he countered bluntly, “You’re avoiding my question.”

“And you’re avoiding mine!”

The chief turned, explaining as he walked back through the temple’s entrance, “You are new to this land. I would not have been surprised if you had gotten lost.”

Tweek jogged a bit to keep up with him, the sweat trickling down his back making him shiver. “Map or no map, I’ve got it all up here.” He pointed to his forehead. The chief looked over his shoulder and smirked at this. Tweek couldn’t tell if the smile was patronizing or not, so his first instinct was to defend himself. “I know my surroundings more than you think.”

As they entered the throne room, which was lighted much better than the outside of the temple, Craig placed his torch in one of the empty holsters in the wall. He then turned towards Tweek and nodded with sincerity, “I should expect no less.”

Before Tweek could speculate much more on _why_ there was a trail of goosebumps rising over his arms and neck in response to such a simple phrase, he willed his legs to start moving towards the maze of hallways beginning at the other end of the room. “I suppose I better get to bed then. More work to do tomorrow!”

The chief’s voice reverberated off the stone walls. “You are hiding something.”

Tweek halted mid-step, not daring to turn around. Why couldn’t he just play it cool for once? He racked his mind, composing a better response than blurting out the word _Marriage!_ A sharp jab in his back told him that he had indeed almost forgotten to tell him something. “Oh! Oh, right! Here.”

Tweek whipped his backpack to the ground, plunging his arms in elbow deep to rummage around. The chalk-like ridges of the vase shard brushed against his palm, and he hurriedly presented it to the chief.

The chief took it in his hands, running his fingers over the clay. “A piece already? Then you certainly _are_ more skilled than I thought.”

Tweek spluttered, shaking his head, “No, no, I think this piece found me. Not the other way around.”

“Something troubles you still.” The chief stated, suddenly looking up from the solidified clay.

“It’s nothing.” Tweek began to zip his pack up, hefting it back onto his shoulders. It gave his hands something to do, to camouflage the fact that they were quivering.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I-I know that! I just—”

Tweek made the mistake of looking up to address the chief. Their eyes locked like they had several times before, and Tweek felt unbearably _seen_. A kind of understanding seemed to flood the chief’s eyes, making them appear more polished and jewel-like than ever. “What did my sister say when I left?”

“Nothing! I mean, well, she _did_ say something but that’s not—”

“You’re trembling.” The neutrality had completely dissolved from Craig’s face, and he moved closer to Tweek. “What’s happened?”

Tweek squeezed his eyes shut, afraid they would give away too much of what was on his heart. The heat of Craig’s body was just a few inches away, yet he didn’t come any closer. That warmth was what Tweek had felt when he placed his hand on his beating heart, just hours before. And it took all the strength Tweek had not to press himself closer to it. He reprimanded himself, _Don’t you dare fall for him. He isn’t for you. He’ll never be for you._

His voice sounded feeble and cracked in his throat, but he was sure the chief was close enough to hear his plea, “Not tonight…”

“Alright.”

The heat faded, and Tweek opened his eyes. The chief stood a few paces back, his face reverted to impenetrable stone. “Would you like me to escort you to your room, or do you have a ‘head map’ of that as well?”

The chief gestured towards Tweek’s head, a small lilt of sarcasm in his voice. It sounded funny against the deadpan look on his face, and the explorer laughed despite his exhaustion. “No, that map isn’t quite ready yet.”

The chief nodded and led the way down the twisting halls of the temple.

Once they rounded the corner of the familiar dead-end of a hallway, Craig bowed his head to the explorer. “Rest well, Tweek.”

“You too, Craig.”

Craig lingered, as if he wanted to say something more, but he eventually decided against it. With one last nod, he strode off, the flutter of his cape making it look as if he were gliding instead of walking.

As the footsteps trailed off, he forced himself to try and make it to the cot. But the tears caught up to him before he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it got a bit angsty here. It'll get better, I promise!
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated.
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm back, and trying to post weekly (probably on Mondays and Tuesdays since that gives me the weekend to work on it too). Let's see if I can keep up until finals!
> 
> Also, this work was originally inspired by an artwork by @temari114 (tumblr is https://temariart.tumblr.com/). Please go support this amazing artist!! I'm not sure if the actual drawing is on either of these platforms anymore, so here is a link to it from the google images search: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/49/7f/05/497f05c7a69f0907781c14de3a479531.jpg
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you @ambercreek95 for the info on this artist!

Abandoning his dusty shoes and worn cotton socks, Tweek sat beside the grassy edge of the pool, staring at the water. He felt hesitant to do what he knew he ought to. He wasn’t the best swimmer, nor did he have much experience with natural bodies of water. The sea terrified him, for the obvious reasons. Sharks, tides, and beachgoers.

But this was certainly a lot smaller than an ocean, even though it shined just as brilliantly blue. The vibrant color was so solid, and the reflections from the sun so bright, that he couldn’t see the bottom. There was no telling how deep it went.

But this was for the sake of preserving history, he reminded himself. For the sake of reviving the past. And for someone who really cared about the item’s fate. If there was one piece under the mud, there were bound to be more. Those bolstering thoughts behind him, he finally dipped two tentative feet into the pool.

The surface was warm enough, but the more they sank, the cooler the water became. Soon, his legs up to his knees were submerged as he pushed himself further off the ledge. Tweek shivered when he realized his feet had yet to touch the bottom.

Tiny waves swatted at the hem of his khaki cargo shorts. That was another part of his reluctance. He didn’t love the idea of soaking his clothes, especially after Wendy had fixed them up so nicely, but he didn’t exactly want to take them off either. The more protection he had against the elements, the better. Besides, they were light enough material. He figured they wouldn’t impede him too much.

He was over-thinking again. It was just a simple swim. Get in the water, look for the bottom, come back up. If that was doable, grab the trowel, go back down, and start digging. No problem.

Tweek took one last, deep inhale and hurled himself into the water. Water seemed to rush upwards around his body, just about touching his chin. The splash he made splattered water across his face, and he sputtered, trying to get his bearings. It was definitely deeper than he thought, and he was only at the edge of the pool.

His glasses nearly slipped off his nose, and he quickly flung them off his face towards were his socks and shoes lay. They clattered noisily against the ground. Tweek prayed they didn’t break. But there was really no time to worry about it because the dirt and rocks under his feet were slipping out from under him, pulling him further away from the ledge. He had only a split second to react before he was treading the water, struggling to keep himself afloat.

“So, it’s sink or swim, is it?” Tweek muttered to no one in particular. Maybe to the water.

He could feel his legs growing tired already, and he should have guessed he wouldn’t have had the stamina to do this for long. He had to focus while he still had the energy. And so he took his first dive downwards, in search of the bottom of the small pond.

His vision became fuzzy without his glasses, and the swirling ebbs and flows of mineral-filled liquid did not help him get a clearer picture of what he was looking at. He just kept propelling himself downwards with his arms stretched out in front of him, hoping to hit something sooner or later.

The feeling of softened soil and possibly clumps of algae brushed against his fingers sooner than he expected. He looked back up to the surface and guessed that he was about 10 feet down, considering how close the surface seemed. But then again, his depth perception must’ve been shit at this point too.

He clawed his way back to the light, the sun acting as his lighthouse after a long journey out to sea. It was a wonder he hadn’t lost his sense of direction, with his sight impaired as it was. As soon as he breached the water, he gulped a grateful breath of warm air. He smiled. He did it.

That was only the first step though in the dive-resurface-repeat cycle. He knew he had to get some tools down there, figure out where to dig, and who knows what else. He wasn’t sure if he’d make it that far. Presuming he still knew how to float, he tipped his head backwards, laying himself out on his back. He needed to catch his breath before he could come up with a plan.

The water gently supported his body, and the feeling of weightlessness washed over him. The sudden peace of the moment reminded him of the field of stars he traveled to in his sleep. He closed his eyes against the harsh daylight, and the dream he had woken from that morning came flooding back as a watery memory.

_The woman stood before him, as she always did. Yet she seemed tense, distressed._

_“You did not say the words I gave you.”_

_“I…it wasn’t the time…”_

_“Perhaps not.”_

_“I don’t even know what it means. How can I just say it when it could be gibberish for all I know?”_

_Her upper lip curled in anger, “It is not gibberish, Tweek.”_

_“Do you want me to look stupid?”_

_She tilted her head to the side, confused. She seemed to glide towards him through the grass, the stars trailing behind her, creating a veil made from diamonds. She kneeled in front of him, “No, I do not intend to inflict any pain on you. It is not my wish to see you cry.”_

_Tweek avoided her gaze, “I’m sorry I disappointed you.”_

_“Not at all. I only wish for you to understand. For you to know your own heart.”_

_“Wait—”_

Then he bolted straight up in bed without getting another word in. Skin cold and clammy. A hammering in his temples. That was why he decided to sneak out this morning. The sun was just rising, and he felt that he could avoid human interaction if he got to work soon enough. And he did for the most part, until he got lost in that maze of a temple. Eventually Kenny came along, a little too cheery for the morning, in Tweek’s opinion, and gave him some directions. The tunnels eventually spit him out towards the back of the temple, and he dashed to the familiar pathway to the pool he now waded in.

He forgot about the dream in his rush, which was the point. But her words always seemed to slither back on him, startle him when he least expected.

She never explained anything fully. He always had to guess at what she meant. All these riddles made his head spin. _When there is fire over the earth and in your heart…I am the…_

“Working hard?”

“Gah!” Tweek flailed, nearly sinking back under the water’s surface, the tiny waves of the pool sloshing over his face and into his eyes. When he eventually regained his balance and blinked the salt out of his vision, he saw the figure of the chief, standing coolly by the water’s edge. He was without most of his normal regalia, no headpiece, no jewels or gold, but his presence was still just as impressive as it had always been. Tweek could feel heat on his cheeks despite the cool beads of water dripping from them, “Don’t do that!”

“I did not mean to interrupt.” Tweek was close enough to see a smirk forming at the corner of the chief’s mouth, telling him otherwise.

“Well…um…I was taking a break.”

“From what exactly?” The chief kneeled by the side of the pool, an attentive look in his eye.

Tweek thought the answer was obvious, but then he realized, “I didn’t tell you where I got that last piece from, did I.”

“No.”

“So this looks silly doesn’t it.”

“Indeed.” The chief confirmed. “I have never seen anyone bathe fully clothed.”

“I’m not bathing! I’m…um…” Tweek brushed back some of his wet tresses, thinking of the right words to explain why he had suddenly launched himself into the old watering hole. He waded to where the chief had settled and crossed his arms over the grass. “I’m searching for the other pieces of the vase. That one I found by accident? It washed up in the mud.”

“And how is that search going?”

“Poorly.”

The chief pressed his lips together, and he snorted, as if he were stifling a laugh. Tweek squinted up at him. “What?

“You look like a drowned guinea pig is all.” The chief chuckled, a genuine smile finally breaking through his disinterested façade.

The explorer ran his hands over his face. “Oh geez…”

“If you had your ca-mer-a with you, I would have liked to steal your likeness with it.”

This time, it was Tweek’s turn to laugh. Craig never seemed to get the inflection right with that word. It was endearing enough for Tweek to want to humor him, “It’s in my backpack.”

Craig watched him for a moment, pausing like he did not expect that answer. Only when the explorer gestured towards the pack did he reach for it. Once the device was in his hands, he fumbled with it, attempting to figure out how Tweek had coaxed the device to perform its magic. Tweek lifted his hands to assist him but hesitated when he realized they were dripping wet. He settled for vocal instructions instead, “Just flip that end around, so the lens part is facing me. Then hit that top button there.”

The sudden flash made Tweek jump backwards, almost losing his footing in the shallows of the pool. More hearty laughter sounded from the chief’s mouth.

“If you think it’s so funny, then why don’t _you_ come in here and do the searching?” Tweek spluttered.

Craig paused and set the camera down. With a swift determination, he yanked off his sandals. “As you wish.”

“No, wait, Craig—”

The protest went unheard. A giant splash ripped the middle of the pool in half.

The water became an unsettled vortex that pulled at Tweek’s legs. He had to clamp onto a tuft of grass to keep himself steady in the shallows. Craig’s head emerged from under the waves, and he shook off the excess droplets in his hair. Tweek flinched, knowing that if he took time to stare, his stutter would return. “Gah! I was being sarcastic!”

“And if I actually want to help?”

“I guess I can’t stop you.”

Craig cut through the water with ease and grace. The blue tunic he wore did not hinder him in the least as he circled his way back to Tweek. “You say they are in the mud?”

“Maybe. I just assume there are probably more. It’s hard to see if that’s true without my glasses though.” Tweek flattened himself against the rocky confines of the pool, hyper aware of the dwindling space between them.

Craig stopped on the cusp of the deep water, motioning for Tweek to come closer. “Then let me be your eyes.”

_Does everyone have to talk in riddles here?_ Tweek asked himself. Still, despite his confusion, he had no reason _not_ to trust Craig at this point, so he waded away from the comfort of land. Grabbing onto the chief’s outstretched hand, he dove with him back into the darkening pool.

When Tweek had the courage to expose his eyes to the stinging brine, he found that he could see much clearer than before. A circle of slightly pale blue light covered the muddied floor, and Tweek turned to see if the sun had brightened since the last time he descended. He was met with a pair of glowing eyes, as magnificent as sapphire. Craig smiled, pointing to their connected hands. And suddenly Tweek understood why his vision had improved.

The search for the remaining vase fragments then came to the forefront of his thoughts. He should use this gift while he could.

Scanning over the various clumps of algae and rocks that had gathered at the bottom of the pool, Tweek identified a sharp ridge that was discolored from its surroundings. He lunged for it with the chief in tow and swiftly began to dig at the surrounding dirt with his free hand. Craig loosened his grip so that he could use both, and Tweek’s vision blurred again. It wasn’t until he felt Craig’s hands on his shoulders that his eyes refocused, sharper.

Again, he returned to digging, chipping his fingernails in his excitement. Craig’s eyes illuminated the ground as he watched. Soon, another piece was dislodged from the dirt. And not long after that, Tweek spotted another just a few inches away, and then another, and another. And the mud was mercifully loose around each, so it relinquished the tiny treasures without much complaint. Tweek would have continued plucking them from the sodden earth if he wasn’t abruptly yanked back towards the surface.

Gasping and coughing, out of both shock and necessity, Tweek clutched the pieces close to his chest, praying that all of them were still in his grasp and not drifting back to into the currents. He looked up into the face of the chief, whose arms held him just as tightly around the waist, his eyes still blazing with their enchanted powers, and a bit of panic. The explorer panted, chuckling in starts and stops as he realized Craig had saved him from nearly drowning, “Craig…oh my stars…I almost forgot to breathe!”

“You do not seem very concerned about that.” The grave expression on Craig’s face did not lessen, and Tweek thought he was about to be scolded any minute.

Still, this did not stop the elevated bubbling in his pulse, the joyous laughter from his heaving lungs. “This is just so amazing! I’ve never seen a dig site with such promise! Even during my internship, and we found some crazy shit.”

“How many more do you think there are?” Craig’s tone of voice made him sound more apprehensive than intrigued. Tweek didn’t blame him. It was one thing to search, and another to risk one’s life searching. But Tweek was sure he could be more careful next time. He just got caught up in his own excitement.

He revealed the pieces in his hands and counted four. He had picked up four in just a few minutes. Amazing.

“I’m sure it’s…more than this, but it’s a really good start.”

Again he looked at the chief’s face, wanting to reassure him with the hope he thought was evident in his eyes. However, his gaze was snared in those overwhelming flames of blue, and he became intensely conscious of the strong arms encircling him. How close he actually was to those eyes. He whispered, captivated, “That magic of yours. I still don’t understand it.”

“I have told you. It is from the gods, passed down my familial line for centuries. The denotation of leadership.”

“But, how could it enhance my eyesight?”

“The power can be used for many things. Destruction. Creation. Restoration. I prefer to heal when I can.” Craig explained softly, the edges of his iris beginning to lose their glow, returning to deep emerald. Tweek’s lungs still heaved as he watched them fade, from one brilliance to another. He wished he could compare them to something less precious than gemstones, something that could make them affect him less. But being this close only allowed him to see just how beautiful they were. There was no escaping a beauty like that.

Just like there was no escaping his quickening heartbeat, or the inevitable flush of his skin, or the unbearable ache in his stomach when they touched. And in the chief’s arms, he was tempted to give in, to just let himself _feel_ it, if only once.

So he laid his head on Craig’s shoulder. Closed his eyes and let himself rest there as he attempted to steady his breath.

To his surprise, he was met with no resistance. Only a hand that came to rest at the nape of his neck. Tweek felt his skin prickle under the gentle touch, but he welcomed it. Then, he could feel their bodies moving through the water, and the hand at his neck crept higher, into his soaking hair, cradling his head softly. Tweek suppressed a sob, pressing his lips together against the wet fabric draped over Craig’s collar bone.

_This is the point of no return, isn’t it._ Tweek thought. And once he thought it, there was no denying it. There was no feeling like this _only once_ , to be rid of it forever afterwards.

Even as he felt himself carried from the water and lowered onto more solid ground, weedy strands of grass scratching at his arms and legs, the feeling lingered. Just as the arms around him lingered. The gentle hand at the back of his head _lingered_.

The sunlight of the mid-morning began to warm his body, and Tweek fought off the desire to sleep. The pain and fears from the past night seemed so distant, so brittle compared to the bliss he felt now. There were no worries to prevent him from letting exhaustion take over.

Another hand came to rest over the ones Tweek still had clasped to his chest. Tweek forced his eyes to flicker open and felt an intense stab of déjà vu. The chief hovered over him as he did the first day they met, his hand over his hands, his chest, just as he had when he spared his life. And that look in his eye was the same then as it was now. That _something_ in them was there, the flicker of something that made Tweek want to trust him with his life. That _connection_ that made Tweek fall in love faster than he ever thought he could.

And that was the first time he fully admitted to himself that he was in love with the chief.

Craig quietly took the vase fragments from Tweek’s hands as he laid there in his stupor, placing them in a small pile by the backpack. “Tweek?”

Tweek shook himself, struggling to push his racing thoughts away, “Hm?”

Craig laid beside him, resting his hand on the explorer’s shoulder. His voice became tender, hushed, “Tell me what you are thinking.”

The explorer searched for anything in his mind other than what he was just thinking. “Why did you _really_ come out here? I bet it wasn’t to swim.”

“It is my kingdom. Do I need a reason to roam where I please?” Craig snarked.

“No, your royal majesty. You don’t.” Tweek mocked.

Craig smirked, turning his eyes to the clouds floating languidly in the sky, “I meant to ask you something.”

“Oh.”

“And Kenny told me where you might have gone.”

_Damn him_ , Tweek thought, picturing the medicine man’s smug smile as he revealed his location. His curiosity though, without a doubt, won out over his sudden flare of annoyance, “Wh-What did you want to ask?”

“I remember the interest you took in the village.”

“Yes…”

“I was wondering if you would accompany me there today.”

“Of-of course!” Tweek bolted upwards, yet he hesitated when he saw the small pile of fragments by his pack. He nodded towards them. “But I should really stay here and work…”

“You didn’t seem to mind taking a break before.” The chief sat up with him, with a slight raise of his brow.

“You’ve got me there.” Tweek laughed. What was the harm? They had found quite a few pieces, considering it was a longshot to find any at all. There was always tomorrow to find more. “Alright, I’ll go.”

Craig grinned, getting up and walking to the boulder next to the pool. There was something folded over it, which was quickly thrown in Tweek’s direction. “Here.”

Tweek barely caught it, his lack of glasses probably being at fault for that. But even without them, he recognized the dazzling green fabric. It was the tunic Wendy had made him. Tweek looked at Craig suspiciously, “Can you see into the future too?”

“Hardly. But I figured you should try to blend in as much as possible if you said yes.”

After a frenzy of getting tools and vase fragments settled in his backpack, Tweek scampered off behind one of the nearby trees to change. Craig seemed to understand his need for privacy and patiently waited for him on top of the big stone, fiddling with the camera.

When Tweek returned, glasses, tunic, and all, he grabbed it back from him with feigned exasperation, “You’re lucky you can fix this again if you break it.”

The chief rolled his eyes lightheartedly, bending down to take two large baskets out from behind the boulder. Tweek wondered why he didn’t see them before, and figured Craig must have set them down before he was ever aware of his presence. “What are those for?”

“We’re picking some things up while we’re out.”

And so they made their way back through the mountainous walls of the city limits and down the pathways and stairs that lead to the outer village. It must have been late afternoon, as far as Tweek could tell, based on the position of the sun. People were teeming about, milling from house to house, vendor to vendor, door to door. Llama and alpacas were herded back and forth. Quechua phrases, loud singing voices, stray pan flute notes, and laughter surrounded them. And they passed through it all remarkably unnoticed.

“Do they realize you’re the chief?” Tweek whispered as a group of giggling children ran and weaved between them.

“I am hard to recognize without my usual adornments.”

“Huh. I feel like I’d know your face anywhere.”

“You have seen it more than most.”

Tweek could only nod at the statement, finding himself speechless. He focused instead on taking in the sights and sounds around him, following closely behind Craig, wherever he was going. First, they stopped at a small stand displaying a wide variety of textiles, all with patterns that looked too intricate to be hand weaved. Colorful stripes, diamonds, zig zags, even some small flowers and animals were embroidered here and there. Craig purchased a few yards of nearly every sample, stating to Tweek that they were for Wendy and Bebe. Then, they came to another stall displaying various dried plants and herbs, all fragrant in some way, sweet or savory, some of which they took away with them for Kenny’s medicines and Eric’s various rituals.

Next were the arrowheads, neatly and freshly sharpened. Several dozen were tucked away in Tweek’s basket under the folds of the fabrics. Apparently, Token had said they needed new ones, and Craig took that into account. Eventually, they arrived at the food stands, which filled a whole alley by themselves. They mostly bought nonperishable vegetables, such as potatoes, carrots, onions and hot peppers. Craig did not seem fond of handling meat, since most of what was readily available that day was roasted guinea pig. Tweek found that soft spot he had for the tiny animal sweet.

One older man, the one who procured their stock of potatoes, had peered hard at Tweek and asked Craig who the _“fair haired follower”_ was. Craig only smiled. _“A close friend.”_ He replied.

When their baskets were stuffed full, Tweek finally asked, “Do you usually run errands for your court?”

“My court is also my family. And this aids them. It’s the very least I can contribute.”

“That’s kind of you.”

“It is also for me, in a way. It allows me to see something other than the temple walls.”

“I can imagine you’d feel cooped up in there.”

At this point, they were trailing away from the main center of the village, trekking to the outer limits, up onto roaming hillsides with an incredible view of the mountains. Tweek wondered why they weren’t going back the way they came. The chief abruptly turned and looked down on the rest of the village, “They don’t realize what a precious gift it is to walk freely. To live freely.”

Tweek was not sure of what to say to that, but judging by the rigidity in the chief’s posture, he was not expected to speak. The chief seemed to say it more to himself than to the explorer. He pivoted again, marching up an incline to one of biggest trees Tweek had ever seen, probably a eucalyptus. When Tweek caught up to him, Craig pulled one of the yards of textile out of the basket. He spread it over the ground under the tree. Tweek asked if Wendy would be mad about it being on the ground. Craig said she couldn’t be if he washed it before she got her hands on it.

Craig then sat down on the makeshift blanket, gesturing for Tweek to take the spot beside him. Tweek obliged him, “Thank you. For everything. You didn’t have to bring me along, you know.”

The chief leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree, “I had hoped it would make you happy.”

“It did. Truly.” Tweek sighed. This was the happiest he had been in a long time, despite all the intensity of the journey. He felt a sense of belonging here that he usually felt only in the presence of old artifacts, silently speaking their histories by just existing. A belonging he felt when he talked to the moon. Once the court had warmed up to him, he felt it among them too. Yet, not to the degree he did with Craig.

Craig was the only person he had ever known that had made him feel like he didn’t have to hide the deepest parts of himself. Like he was worth something, faults and all. Accepted. At least, for the most part. Would he be accepting of his feelings for him? Was he capable of reciprocating them? Even if he did, what about the marriage ceremony? He suddenly regretted allowing himself give into his emotions earlier. He could feel the hurt of it all creeping back over his shoulders.

“There it is again.”

“What?” Tweek squawked, startled by the low tones of the chief’s voice.

“That sadness has settled over you again.” The chief observed.

“I’m alright.” Tweek lied.

“I will not force you to reveal your thoughts.”

Of course he wouldn’t, Tweek knew that. He never felt forced by him. Right now, he felt forced by his own heart, thrashing, screaming. He startled himself with his own outburst. “Your sister. She invited me to their bonfire last night.”

“For what reason?”

“She wants me to help with your…” It took all Tweek’s restraint not to shout the word _Marriage._ “Ceremony.”

“In what way?”

“Aren’t I usually the one who asks questions?” The chief gazed intently at him, unamused. The question still stood and Tweek felt like he had no choice but to answer. “She wants to know why you’re avoiding the preparation.”

The chief face scrunched tightly, and the growl at the back of his throat was barely confined. “Preparations are useless if the ceremony never happens.”

“There’s always a chance, right?” Tweek laughed nervously. This conversation was quickly becoming one he wanted to escape from.

“And what do you know about it?” The chief snapped bitterly.

“Enough.” Tweek groaned inwardly.

“Did she tell you how many years it’s been since they first tried?”

Tweek shook his head.

The chief paused, collecting himself before he gave the answer. “Seven years. Seven _long_ years.”

The sorrow in his inflection was not lost on Tweek. “And they still haven’t found someone?”

“I told you. Her magic takes time to come to earth.” The chief nodded upwards. The moon had become faintly visible in the sky, appearing slightly across the way from the setting sun. The purple-pink twilight provided a dream-like backdrop to their eternal dance to and from each other. “Even so, I believe they are wasting their time.”

“Why do you say that?”

“They may not have found someone for _me_ , but that does not mean they cannot look for my sister.”

Tweek snorted, caught off guard by the sudden shift to Trisha. “You’re the _chief._ Of course you’re the priority.”

“I am not the only one that can produce an heir.”

“I don’t think Trisha is going to like that answer.” Tweek just about choked on his words. The way Trisha explained it, it didn’t seem like they were all that concerned with an _heir_.

“Trisha is too stubborn to understand that my time has passed and hers is steadily approaching.”

Something in that sentence did not ring true for Tweek. There was something else that Craig wasn’t saying, “So, what? Are you saying they should just give up on you?”

“The gods have given up. Why shouldn’t they?” Craig’s eyes were on his now, flashing with the sort of anger that only grief can conjure.

It was enough to knock the wind out of Tweek. His voice felt thin and wispy as he murmured, “The gods haven’t given up on you, Craig.”

“There are some things that even the gods cannot promise.” Again, his intense stare was on the blackening sky. “Mama Quilla can do many things. She gives light to the earth in the darkest of hours. She can sense the rhythms of heart strings. Guess at who will be right for each other. Bring those people together in the same place, at the same time. But she cannot _control_ love. She cannot play with heartbeats, including mine.”

“So, she didn’t _make_ your parents fall in love.”

“No, only gave them the opportunity to.”

“I see. And the ceremony is like that opportunity?”

“In so few words, yes.”

Tweek processed the new information, mulled it about in his mind, yet he still couldn’t fit the pieces together. “I don’t see what the problem is.”

“But you just said it.”

“What? What did I say?”

“You said the ceremony is like that opportunity. And it is, which means I am not supposed to know _who_ the betrothed is until that day. Just like my father and mother did not know.”

“Huh. A blind marriage.” Tweek muttered, liking the idea even less than before.

“Apparently a good one, if Mama Quilla is lucky with her guess. She normally is. But if the ceremony lingers, never being completed…I have more time to…”

“To what?”

Craig’s eyes shown in the moonlight, full and watery, as if they held all the rain the clouds could ever pour. He fixed them on Tweek, and his words spilled out of him as if it pained him to hold them back, “To give my love to someone else.”

Tweek looked at him long and hard. “Would that be a bad thing?”

Craig held his gaze, even as his voice cracked, “What would I do, Tweek, if I fell in love with someone who was not chosen? What if it is _then_ that so-called _right_ person is found, and the ceremony proceeds, but I have no more love to give them?”

Tweek’s eyes widened. “A forced marriage…without love…that’s what you’re afraid of…”

Even though Craig sat as still as a statue in the shadows of the night, he could not hide the tear that slipped down his cheek, “I can’t…I can’t do that, Tweek…My heart would break itself before the marriage could—”

“Hey, hey, slow down…” Tweek promptly snatched another yard of textile fabric from the basket beside him and tenderly wrapped it around Craig’s shoulders. “That probably won’t happen. Isn’t that what the ceremony is supposed to guard against?”

The chief glanced up at him sadly, more tears falling of their own accord, “Yes, but human time seems to be a factor the gods have forgotten.”

There was only one explanation that Tweek could think of that would make Craig believe the worst like this. “Are you worried you’ve fallen in love already?”

Craig seemed to stop breathing for a moment. There was a flicker of blue in his eyes, and the fresh tears that seemed to drag themselves slowly along his face glowed like tiny crystals. “I am not sure…” He blinked and dropped his gaze, the glow disappearing. “If the gods refuse to tell me anything, perhaps I will never know.”

“Craig…you of all people will know love.” Without thinking much about it, Tweek cupped the sides of the chief’s face, brushing away stray tears with his thumbs. Craig leaned into his hands, evidently soothed by the caress. It did not seem to take much on Tweek’s part to get him back to a state of calm. They sat there with each other comfortably, watching each other’s eyes for a long while.

That is, until Craig grabbed Tweek’s hand with an unexpected urgency, “I must show you something.”

And they were off, abandoning all the supplies that had just acquired. When Tweek shouted to him, worried they would be stolen, Craig replied that they were too far up, and thieves wouldn’t go to the trouble.

They ran as if their lives depended on it. Bounded over fallen trees and haphazard rock formations.

All until they reached a wide expanse of stone wall, perfectly bathed in the moonlight. The image of a stately woman was etched into it. She held an impeccably round orb in her hands, and her gown seemed to flow about her like mists.

Panting from the run, Tweek admired the work from a half bent over position. “This is…beautiful…”

“I thought you might like it, since you seem so fond of Mama Quilla.” Craig sounded wholly unaffected by the miles they must have navigated.

Tweek gasped, “ _This_ is Mama Quilla?”

Craig nodded, beaming proudly.

The figure looked familiar. There was the orb in her hands, her dress, and the eyes that seemed to twinkle as they looked down at him. There was a veil of stars, like diamonds, flowing from the top of her head.

Everything clicked. _Holy fuck_ , he thought.

He placed his hand against the stone and repeated those haunting words from the woman in his dreams, “When there is fire over the earth…and in your heart…”

Craig looked at him, puzzled, “What was that?”

Tweek’s thoughts were humming again. Fire. He had to find a fire. Where was there a fire? _Wait._

“I-I’m not certain, but I think I need to go back to the bonfire.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes.” He wasn’t quite sure why, but he was nearly convinced that he had to repeat those words she had given him at the bonfire. As soon as possible.

“What brought this on?”

“It’s hard to explain, but I think I might be able to help you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, for taking the time to read this! I put a lot of time into it, and I know it takes just as much time and effort to read, and I really do appreciate it from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> Comments and kudos always welcome <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I hope everyone is keeping safe and healthy (and hopefully happy!) during this trying time.
> 
> As you can see, there's been an addition of two more chapters! My original plan got shifted around a bit, so I had to make some room for a few more scenes. 
> 
> That's the only real update I have for right now. I'm gonna keep going until those finals come sneaking up on me. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this update! Thank you!

The walk back to the palace was slower than their trek up the mountain had been. The weight of the supplies made their steps slower and more deliberate. They barely said a word to each other. Only when they neared the shadows of the bonfire did Craig speak, “Forgive me. This is as far as I can take you.”

“I understand.” Tweek nodded. Then he looked towards the basket in the chief’s hands, shifting his grip on the one he carried, “Do you want me to take these to them?”

“They might appreciate that.” Craig grinned as he passed the materials on to Tweek.

Tweek laughed. The basket was much heavier than he expected. The vegetables they got were certainly ripe. Clyde would be pleased. “I hope so. It’s like a peace offering before the war.”

“War? What do you plan on doing, Tweek?”

“I’m going to try and stop the ceremony.”

Craig’s eyes widened, full of doubt. Yet they flickered like flames, with small sparks of hope. “And how do you suppose you’ll do that?”

Tweek wasn’t exactly sure, but he had a feeling that those words were the key. And _her_ frustration, her urgency. There must have been a reason for that. She might want to stop the search as much as Craig did. But he couldn’t just explain that to him, could he? _No_ , he warned himself, _there’s no time._ “Just—can you trust me?”

He fidgeted, transferring his weight from foot to foot. He was as anxious as ever to get this over with. A firm hand rested on his forearm, “I do.”

Tweek stilled, slightly stunned by his sudden candor, but he was grateful for it, even though it made his chest spasm. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Craig’s eyes glinted, and he hummed his approval. Then, he stepped past Tweek, towards the mighty steps of the palace, vanishing under the protection of the night’s veil.

Tweek watched him disappear, desperately thinking, _please let this work_.

Voices were growing louder from the direction of the bonfire, forcing him to tear his eyes away. Shuffling the fastest he could towards the outer limits of the gathering, he stumbled on another snippet of their conversation. All in Quechua.

 _“Even **he** knows how useless all this is.”_ Kyle groaned. He created lines in the soft dirt with a stray twig, clearly bored.

Stan piped up, seconding the redhead’s opinion, _“Yeah, we should’ve abandoned it long ago.”_

Trisha grumbled to herself for a minute, contemplating a sufficient way to disband the growing unrest of the group. She finally sighed, _“I have faith in Mama Quilla. We will not go against her.”_

 _“Just pick a princess from a neighboring country. It’s not that hard.”_ Eric snarled. His garments were wrinkled, which served to made it look like angry, crimson snakes coiled about him. The image made Tweek shudder.

 _“I will not marry him off to someone he will not love.”_ Trisha spat, hopping off her rock platform, striding over to where he sat. She was lightening fast on her feet, clearly fueled by how sick of his shit she was.

He leaned back from her fearsome approach, waving his arms in ridiculous protest, _“But he has never shown interest in anyone!_

That was when Kenny began to speak, _“What about the interest he shows for you-know-who?”_

Trisha’s smile said she knew exactly what he was talking about. Tweek did not, and he unknowingly broke the silence that shielded him from their perception, “Who’s that?”

Ten pairs of eyes landed on him all at once. Trisha practically squealed with glee, “Tweek!”

She came barreling towards him as if she intended to pounce, and he held up the baskets in self-defense. She stopped a little short, looking at them in surprise. Tweek shrugged, smiling awkwardly, “I come baring gifts.”

Upon hearing that, everyone gathered around the explorer, whispering eagerly to each other. He set the supplies down, inviting them all to look through them. Wendy was the first to bolt forward, her eyes and hands scanning the multitudes of fabric that was clearly visible. She made a face at one, a face that implied dissatisfaction. Tweek immediately recognized it as the makeshift blanket they placed on top of the dirt. _Shoot, I forgot_ , he thought. Craig didn’t have time to wash it.

Wendy thumbed at it, showing it to Bebe for a second opinion. She then turned to Tweek, “Where did all of this come from?”

“Craig and I did some errands in the village.” He clarified, hoping that would somehow excuse the dusty fabric.

Apparently, it did. Bebe whispered something into Wendy’s ear, and both of them started to giggle. The seamstress smirked, “Oh, _I see_.”

Tweek didn’t know what they were implying, but from the way they blushed, he was glad he didn’t.

More little discoveries were made by the group, and Tweek watched them all. Token, Stan, and Kyle looked over each of the arrowheads with care, testing the sharpness, fairly satisfied with the quality. Kenny shifted through each of the herbs, making a mental checklist that showed plainly on his face. Eric would pick some up out of the pile he was making behind him, looking thoroughly unimpressed. He stuffed several down the front of his tunic anyways. Clyde and Butters poured over the vegetables, juggling them between themselves. Butters seemed to babble off ideas for what they could make with them, suggestions for different combinations and cooking techniques, and Clyde nodded along, pretending to listen.

They all acted like a close family, somewhat dysfunctional, but nevertheless cooperative. No wonder Craig regarded them as such.

There was a small tug on Tweek’s tunic sleeve, and he turned to see Trisha’s face smiling up at him, teasingly, “So, how was Craig?”

“He was fine.” Tweek said, figuring the less he said about the whole thing, the better.

Trisha didn’t let him get away with that game for long, however. When she realized Tweek’s terse angle, she got right to the point. “Any, um, any mention of the ceremony?”

At the mention of the word “ceremony”, the whole group became silent. They quickly gathered up their spoils and scattered back to their respective places in the semi-circle around the fire. They knew that a real show was about to happen. They wanted the best seats.

Tweek took in a deep breath, reminding himself to keep his responses as short as possible. “Like Kyle said, he thinks it’s useless.” Kyle snorted, amused that he was right about the chief’s thoughts. He would probably lord that fact over everyone for a while before he found something else to speculate about. Tweek then turned his full attention on Trisha, who had resumed her position atop her pedestal, “ _And_ he thinks it’s _your_ turn for the spotlight.”

“I’m not surprised he’d think that.” Trisha crossed her arms, almost stomping her foot in her resolve. “But we _have_ to keep trying.”

“Craig doesn’t want that.” Tweek objected, quickly getting tired of her tenacity. She clearly didn’t see how badly it hurt him, all the failed attempts.

“So what _does_ he want? To be alone for the rest of his life?”

“No! He didn’t say _that_ —”

“Maybe not, but that’s the _essence_ of what he’s proposing.”

“It’s more complicated than you think!”

“I don’t care how complicated it is! I’m not going to let him throw away a chance at love.”

“He’s…he’s not! That’s not what he—”

“Tell me then! How the hell is he _not_!?” Trisha’s hair seemed to burn and dance like the blazes in front of her. Her lips were scrunched together in complete fury, but her eyes were enormous, burrowing into Tweek with unimaginable sorrow. She looked as if she were about to cry. “I just want him to be happy. Please understand that…”

“I do too.” Tweek whispered. Her eyes looked a lot like her brother’s in that moment, with the same grief that twisted itself into anger and despair. Then, all he could do was see the chief, as if he was forced to watch the welling of his tears all over again, and just sit there, unable to do much of anything.

His heart squeezed tightly, then banged hard against his breastbone, pulling him out of his reverie. And he was back, looking at Trisha’s unaltered expression. Right, he was in front of _Trisha_. And he was _standing_. And he _could_ do something.

In one gush of air from frantic lungs, he repeated the words the moon goddess had given him. He was amazed when they came out with relative ease. He had never said them in the waking world before. It was so simple, too. Five little words. He felt ridiculous for ever thinking it would be hard to say.

“Holy fuck.” The tension in Trisha’s face seemed to melt, and while her eyes were still huge, they held a new excitement in them. Pure awe. In an instant, she was nose to nose Tweek. If she were taller, she would be looming over him. “Tweek, what did you say?”

Tweek shrunk backwards, “I’m not sure? I know the first half is _I am the_ …but after that I don’t understand it.”

Trisha opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. She blinked, over and over, as if she was trying to make sure Tweek was real, and truly standing in front of her. “Where did you hear this?”

“I…it’s going to sound weird…”

“Not as weird as what you just said.”

Tweek tilted his head, at a loss for why she was becoming so intense. He glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the court, looking for an explanation. All he got were shrugs and a few shakes of the head. Even Kenny gave him a look that said, _I don’t know, man_.

He brought his focus back to Trisha, trying not to feel like a lunatic as he explained, “It was in a dream. A woman…surrounded by stars. I think I know who it is now.”

Both of them said the name in unison, “Mama Quilla.”

Trisha did not offer any other continuation of the conversation. No acknowledgement or reaction. She just kept staring intently at Tweek, mouth gaping open.

A few tiny squeaks of nervous laughter found their way out from behind Tweek’s teeth. “So, is…is the ceremony off?”

That seemed to snap Trisha out of it. “What? No! No, no, no, it is very much _on_.”

Tweek barely had time to process his own disbelief before he screamed, “What?!—Ngk—Why?!”

Despite how big they already were, Trisha’s eyes grew another size larger, barely fitting a significant twinkle of what began to be amusement, “You really have no idea what you said?”

“No!”

“Moon maiden. You said, ‘I am the moon maiden’.”

Tweek’s eyebrows popped up, “What does _that_ mean?”

She ignored his question, effervescent snickers and giggles taking place of her words until she enthusiastically wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Tweek! This is great! This is perfect!”

Tweek squirmed in her grip, and when she showed no signs of letting go, he howled at the sky above, “Can I get a straight answer from anyone? Please?!”

Trisha chuckled, abruptly seizing his shoulders and holding him at arm’s length. Her eyes examined him, up and down, before she finally settled on his face. Her smile was radiant and would have been comforting if she had said anything else. “You are my brother’s betrothed.”

Tweek’s pulse froze. Not even the warmth of the bonfire could get it going again. “What?”

“And to think, all this time we were looking for a woman when—”

“No, wait. No. There must be some mistake. That wasn’t what I thought it meant.”

“But that _is_ what it means. You definitely said _moon_ _maiden_. Which means she meant you for _him_. _My_ betrothed will say—” She caught herself before she revealed her own secret, “something different.”

Tweek felt like his legs were about to give out from under him. The only thing holding him up was Trisha’s grip on his shoulders. If she let go, he’d surely become a boneless heap on the dirt. He tried to speak, but he really couldn’t. There was not enough air for him to do so.

“I fucking thought so!” Kenny hollered.

And the whole congregation erupted into joyous whooping and shouting. Their cheers could probably be heard from the outer village and beyond. Even those that seemed done with the whole process smiled, relieved there was no more searching to be done.

There was only one voice that shouted without joy. “I will not stand for this!”

Trisha snapped her head towards the opposing voice, her grasp never leaving Tweek, “Will you sit for it, Eric?”

“No! I will not!”

“Then leave!”

Tweek heard heavy footfall stomp away into the distance, but he knew if he turned his head to watch, he’d get dizzy. The world already seemed to be spinning.

Trisha’s fingers dug into him, and she commanded whoever was behind them, “Push that rock over here. He needs to sit.”

A great shuffling, scrapping, and grunting transpired before she decisively settled Tweek down on the rock. She held his hands tightly, attempting to ground him, “From the moment he set eyes on you…It makes so much sense…”

Tweek finally found some words, but they sounded far away from him, as if he were speaking through a tunnel, and he only heard them when they reached Trisha on the other side. “That…that’s impossible…”

“I was beginning to think so too. But I had my suspicions.” She smirked. But her confidence ebbed when she noticed how hard Tweek was shaking.

“It can’t be…I… _I_ can’t be…”

“Tweek—”

“He doesn’t…he _couldn’t_ …”

“Tweek—”

“He couldn’t love someone like me—”

“Tweek!” Trisha squeezed his hands, and he looked at her, not quite out of his shock. She narrowed her eyes, thinking, calculating. Then she stood, letting Tweek’s hands rest on his lap. As she passed him, she whispered, “Watch the flames.”

He sighed but did as he was told. Her voice seemed to hit the back of his head, “Tell me, what do you feel when you are around Craig?”

The bonfire seemed to rise high over Tweek’s head, reaching up into the black sky, sharing its heat with the stars. And that warmth seemed to flow over him the more he thought about Craig. He could see his eyes in the flames and how bright they were, how they always seemed to gaze at something deeper inside him. A blur of anxious, happy, affectionate energy washed over him, and suddenly he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “I feel understood. And safe. But I can never seem to catch my breath…” He forced himself to breathe, struggling to find what he meant to say before he continued rambling. And his breath brought with it the feeling of the chief’s hands across his chest, the first time their eyes met. He laughed at himself, admitting, “It’s not hard to love him.”

Soft coos sounded from a distance away, presumably from Wendy and Bebe. He immediately remembered that he had an audience.

Trisha must’ve seen how his back stiffened because she quickly urged, “Then remember him. The shape of his face. The words he has spoken. The things he has done.”

The memories seemed to flood him, rush before his eyes, over his skin, enveloping his body. He envisioned Craig’s face, the neutral expression, the set of his jaw, his piercing eyes. And as soon as he did, he began to feel every touch, one by one. He felt fingers threading through his hair, a thumb caressing his knuckles, arms around his waist, a hand clasped over his forearm, over his chest, over his heart. He closed his eyes and heard a soft humming in his ears, low and unforgettable. That haunting lullaby. _I will watch over you like the sun looks after the moon._

Tweek’s eyes flew open, that last recollection almost too vivid. He was surprised that it was Trisha standing before him and not Craig himself. She stood there, her hands on her hips, a graceful smile on her face, spreading from cheek to cheek. “Can you look me in the eye and still tell me that he couldn’t hold the least bit of affection for you as well?”

Tweek paused, discovering that he couldn’t bring himself to deny it. He slowly shook his head.

Trisha grinned, “That’s what I thought.”

And Tweek could not help but smile too.

Butters was the first to break the silence, “Go, Tweek! We knew you had it in you!”

“The ceremony lives on!” Token heartily cheered.

That brought back another memory to Tweek’s mind, a rather recent development. “But I thought he wasn’t supposed to know who I was before the ceremony.”

“Well, did you tell him?” Trisha asked.

“No, but—”

“Good. Don’t.”

“Trisha, he’s in _pain_. He thinks the gods have forgotten about him. Are you seriously telling me to let him suffer?”

“Hm, you said he wanted _me_ to start searching?”

“Yes…but—”

“Then let’s let him think that we are.”

“How?”

“I’ll just tell him that we’ve followed his request. My ‘betrothed’ will be ‘looked for’, while we plan his ceremony instead. Then, he won’t have to worry about it in the meantime. See? Everyone’s happy.”

Tweek paused, taking the time to think that plan fully through. It sounded good, flawless even. But he knew that he wasn’t a good liar, and it was even worse when he was around Craig. “I’m not sure if I can keep that charade up for long.”

“Try. And if he ends up finding out, tell him it was my idea. It was, right? I have no qualms with having him mad at me.” Trisha gesticulated with such enthusiasm, she nearly knocked herself over. She hesitated, though, when she saw Tweek’s reluctance, “Do you want to be with him?”

It did not take much time for Tweek to respond. “I hate the thought of being _without_ him.”

“Then we have work to do.”

At that moment, Tweek swore that he saw the moon flash in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading <3
> 
> EDIT: Finals have snuck up on me. Whoops. The next update will have to wait until after the 21st of this month. Thank you for your patience as well!


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